Searching For Trouble
by Gibbsgirl
Summary: A piece of property and a suspect who give new meaning to "execution of a search warrant". Complete
1. Chapter 1

Searching for Trouble  
Rated PG-13 for language (minor -- nothing we all haven't said after dropping something breakable)  
  
AN: This was written as a response to a challenge in which I was provided the first and last lines. The only other requirement was a minimum of 500 words. That part wasn't a problem. I need to thank m.a.c. for being my beta and psychic link. Without you, my twin, this would not be here! And thanks to jo for proofing us both.  
  
Is it meant to be this slimy? Kate asked. She looked with distaste at the scummy buildup in the disused hot tub.  
  
How do you know it's slimy? You haven't even stuck your hand in there yet, Tony grinned back at her. C'mon, we're never gonna get that rifle if you don't...  
  
Why do I have to go fishing around in that disgusting mess? You know, Tony, you look like you could do with a rinse. Kate smiled as she looked over her rather mud covered partner.  
  
Oh, no. We split the jobs up fair and square. Heads digs out under the porch and tails gets the hot tub. Now I've done mine; mud, spiders, and even a few rodents. Are you telling me you can't handle a little scum? Tony offered her a wicked grin and stepped closer, Does Kate need a big, strong man to...  
  
All right, DiNozzo. Knock it off. I'm not helpless. Kate looked around. If she couldn't get Tony to do it for her, she was going to have to find herself a tool. No _way _she was getting in that water. Hey, how about that long branch over there? Think I can make a pretty fair sweep of the tub with it so we can see what's in here?  
  
Tony looked at the branch in question and back at the tub. He gave her a slight grimace and a shake of his head. I don't know, Kate. It's an irregular bottom and that branch might be too heavy. It's not a bad idea though, but it's probably not going to keep you out of that tub.  
  
As he spoke, Kate located a more suitable branch a few feet away. I bet this one will work! She carried it back and set it carefully in the tub. Gingerly, she swept it around, feeling for the rifle and disturbing the algae and scum. She caught brief metallic reflections through the murky water and felt her stick bump something. Oh, crap,' she thought.   
  
Tony's acute vision detected the same thing Kate had, and he snickered at her reaction. Looks like you're going swimming in the green stuff.  
  
Not if I can help it. Now that she knew where the rifle was she was relatively sure she could snag it by the trigger guard. Whipping out her knife, she whittled at the tip of her stick, carving a rough hook. Granted, Gibbs could do this quicker, but she was satisfied with her own efforts. She swirled the customized stick into the water, making a small vortex to clear it briefly, and on her third pass, she snagged the rifle. Pulling her prize from its slimy tomb, she grinned triumphantly at Tony. He took the rifle from her with one hand and patted her enthusiastically on the back with the other. Unfortunately, Kate's foot found a slick puddle, and she wound up in the slime nearly up to her shoulders before she could right herself.   
  
As he walked toward the front of the dilapidated cottage, Tony looked down at the mud thoroughly coating his jumpsuit and tried not to think about the spider webs he was certain infested his hair, despite the cap. Sorry, Kate, he called back to her. He tried to sound sincere, but why should she be the only one to get to go back clean?   
  
A ghostly Gibbs stepped through the main door as Tony reached the front corner of the house. Hey Boss, where were you searching? The flour bins?  
  
Gibbs gave the younger man a wry look. Attic, actually. Dust up there was a foot thick. A great sneeze suddenly overcame him, and dust became briefly airborne before settling back on him. I see you had some luck. Where'd you find the rifle? In the mud pits?   
  
Actually, no. It was Kate who... Tony glanced over his shoulder as the agent in question stomped toward him. Oh boy. Now, Kate... don't be like that...  
  
Tony, is there even one square inch on you that's mud free? Because I'm going to smear this algae...  
  
Kate! Nice to see you stayed so clean. Everyone else is going to be quite envious. Now, about the rifle? Gibbs voice, as usual, cut right through Tony and Kate's pseudo-marital wrangling. He started down the steps of the large wraparound porch, intent on inspecting the team's most recent find.  
  
Oh, uh, I found it in the hot tub. Kate glanced around to take stock of the other agents who had been searching the rundown property. One was nursing numerous bee stings, another either hives or poison ivy. Kate shuddered; don't ride back in that truck, she told herself. Yet another agent was having his leg splinted by EMTs -- either a bad sprain or a break where some floorboards had given way. The place looked little better than a war zone.  
  
Tony saw the direction of Kate's gaze and reflected on Erickson, the little puke they had in custody. Five Marine training groups struck by what appeared to be a stomach virus, later proved to be deliberate sabotage of their water tanks. Eighteen months the case had sat cold and then three weeks ago an odd piece of intel had crossed his desk. It didn't connect to anything, but it was a boring day in the office and a nice day outside. Tony had conned Gibbs into letting him check it out. The result? Four days ago they caught the weasel. Interrogation got them nowhere, until this morning. First thing, bright and early, he wanted to talk about this place. Wanted to tell them what they'd find. And where to look. Should have known he'd have hidden the stuff in treacherous places. If he'd booby trapped the place, he probably couldn't have done better.   
  
Did we find everything we were looking for? Or did the House from Hell' win? Tony watched as Gibbs came around from the bottom of the steps to join him and Kate, sneezing a couple more times along the way. They backed warily away from the dust storm their leader brought with him. No offense, Boss, Tony offered at Gibbs' look.   
  
The older man sighed and nodded his understanding. Everything but the poison lab. We believe it's in the basement, but no one's willing to go down there. Gibbs said as he tried to brush the dust out of his hair and off his clothes. Kate and Tony tried to suppress grins as their leader was shrouded in a halo of dust particles that only seemed to land right back on him. It added to the uncanny resemblance Gibbs now bore to a certain cartoon character usually enveloped in a cloud of dirt. Gibbs ignored their ill-concealed humor as he continued, We're the only ones who are just dirty and not injured, but it's likely going to take more than one person. We suspect the stairs leading down there are more rotten than the floorboards that got Terry. We're not sure, though; we haven't been able to get back there.   
  
You must be joking, Tony looked at Gibbs, stunned, then glanced at Kate. I'm all for going for the prize, but I've got mud in places no man should have mud! Kate's algae, no offense, Kate, is starting to smell a little funky. And you -- bless you, again -- want us, Sneezy, Muddy and Stinky, to wade our way through weakened floorboards, brave the cellar stair nasties and then into who knows what? His partners chuckled at his colorful description. I have a better idea. Let's all go home, get clean and come back with a wrecking crew. Once we demolish that house I'll feel a lot better about trying to take on that cellar. Tony would probably never have spoken like that about something so important, but the mud was starting to harden, and itch. Not to mention crumble into awkward places. His growing discomfort made him just a bit testy.  
  
Kate discreetly sniffed herself and wrinkled her nose. Stink she did, and it wasn't like she could just change shirts. The crud had soaked all the way into her clothes to her skin. She'd probably have to incinerate all three layers and fumigate herself. Bless you, she said automatically, as Gibbs sneezed again. Are you sure this isn't an allergic reaction? You're not looking so good.  
  
Gibbs waved away Kate's concern and considered Tony's comments. The younger agent was definitely right about one thing; they had no intel about the contents of the basement. And looking at what had happened to the rest of them just searching for the minor items they knew to be here, he didn't trust Erickson not to have booby trapped the basement. He'd certainly chosen his hideout well and used the property to its best advantage to stash his deadly material. Perhaps it was unfair to ask his team to risk themselves right now. But his gut told him they didn't have unlimited time. Their slimebag gave up this location exactly when he did for a reason. Gibbs believed if they didn't get down in that basement extremely soon they would lose their biggest and most important piece of evidence. All practical thought was lost, however, when another sneezing fit overcame him, leaving him vomiting violently on the lawn.  
  
Hey, Boss.... Tony began, as Gibbs sagged to the ground. Kate, help me! Tony and Kate flanked their woozy boss and helped him over to the ambulance. We cannot go scouting for the poison lab with Gibbs like this. And this mud is getting more uncomfortable by the minute.  
  
Tell me about it. I'm not sure about the smell, but I'm really starting to itch, Kate replied. She realized that whatever was wet with scummy water was becoming seriously uncomfortable. They sat Gibbs down on the ambulance fender; his sneezing had subsided, but his face was reddening and he had started to rub at it. He looked miserable. Without warning, Gibbs lunged off the fender and fell to his knees, upchucking again. It's all right, Gibbs. We can fill the EMT in on... Kate reached out her hand in comfort but Gibbs smacked it away with some vehemence as he curled up in a ball of human misery.  
  
Gibbs grunted out. God, but his head was starting to really hurt. As if the nausea wasn't enough, his face began to burn. Pain wove through him again and he was unable to suppress a groan.  
  
Yes, Gibbs, the lab. We know. Kate said absently. She looked at Tony quizzically. What do we do now? We can't just go down there ourselves. We're going to have to call for backup. Kate noticed Tony wasn't quite listening to her. Tony? What's wrong?  
  
Tony stood still and let it all flow around him for just a moment. Then he turned toward Kate, who was unconsciously rubbing and scratching. I don't think Gibbs is talking about the lab. I think he means _he _was poisoned. Maybe we all were. Erickson's a poisoner. We haven't reached his lab yet, that's the prize. Gibbs said the attic dust was a foot thick. No way that could be true unless it was planted. It's probably poisoned. And I'll bet anything so's your algae. Sorry, Kate, he added when he remembered he was the reason she was wearing it.  
  
Tell you what, be sorry later. Right now, let's just get Gibbs taken care of. Hey, what about your mud?  
  
I have no idea about the mud. You'd better get out of that shirt and anything else and get thoroughly washed off. Gibbs, too. Ask the EMTs for help in rigging up some kind of temporary shower or something and see if they have something for you and Gibbs to wear. But bag and tag the clothes. I'm calling Abby and Ducky. I want Ducky out here now, and I need to know what Abby needs to help you both out. I'm also getting another team in here with some extra equipment. Gibbs wanted that poison lab today; I think maybe time is of the essence.  
  
Kate just stared at Tony for a second, a small smile crossing her face. Sometimes it was easy to forget that the guy with the killer grin and devil-may-care attitude could turn practically into a Gibbs clone in an instant. She thought about complimenting him on both his quick thinking and decisive action, but decided against it. While it would please him, it would also distract him. She turned to talk to the EMTs who were working with Gibbs and filled them in on what they knew, what they suspected and what they needed.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony hung up the phone. He had never heard Abby sound so frantic, ever. He swore to her he'd have everything sent to her ASAP, all properly bagged and tagged. He promised he'd take care of Kate and Gibbs until Ducky arrived, who'd left as soon as he heard the situation. Tony knew that there was no one that any agent in NCIS would rather have by his or her side in a situation like this. Ducky's experience was incomparable and likely to prove lifesaving. His next phone call was to arrange for another team to assist with the poison lab. He detailed the likely known pitfalls for recovery and told them to equip for the worst. As he finished his second call, he could hear Kate talking to the EMTs behind him again.  
  
She leaned around from behind the ambulance in response to his bellow. Abby wants to know if it's possible to get a blood draw from you and Gibbs. She wants to get her own analysis going.  
  
I'll check with the EMTs and see what we can do, okay?  
  
A thoroughly calamine-daubed Agent Bourne approached Tony and said, You know, if Abby or Ducky didn't tell you to get that mud off you, I'd be pretty amazed, Bourne's hands clenched the sides of his slacks, trying valiantly not to scratch at his poison ivy blisters.  
  
Tony sighed, accepting the older agent's gentle chiding. Thanks, Bourne. More worried about Kate and Gibbs at the moment, though. How're you holding up?   
  
I itch like hell, but what do you expect? Other than that, I'm waiting for you to ask me to help. At Tony's surprised look, the balding man added, Gibbs is my friend, too. We've all been watching and listening since you and Kate helped him in there. Bourne gestured to the ambulance.  
  
Tony thought fast. He needed help here, but he needed evidence transported back to the office as well. And that evidence was time critical. Are you up to some fast driving? I need to get Gibbs' and Kate's........  
  
Say no more, I've left as soon as you strip out of that jumpsuit so I can take it, too. No taking chances with this jackass, okay, DiNozzo?  
  
He hesitated only a fraction of a second, then nodded his agreement. Grab me a clean one and I'll see if the EMTs can hose me down. We'll get this one ready and make sure all the rest is set to go.  
  
The EMT's had rigged a temporary shower on the opposite side of the ambulance; both Gibbs and Kate had been through already. Tony motioned for Kate to join him once he'd stepped behind the makeshift curtain setup and undressed.  
  
Kate, can you bag and tag this for Bourne and then gather all the other stuff from you and Gibbs? Tony handed out his filthy jumpsuit as Kate finished putting on clean gloves. She winced slightly as the latex snapped against the edge of the raw skin where her rash, or whatever, began. The EMTs began to hose Tony down and he had to raise his voice to be heard over the water. Ducky's on his way; that should make Gibbs a lot happier. Bourne's offered to drive all the evidence back to Abby, who's extremely worried about the two of you, by the way.  
  
Well, the EMTs want to get us out of here, posthaste. They're concerned about Gibbs, and I don't blame them. Call Ducky back and ask him to meet us at the hospital. Kate finished securing Tony's jumpsuit and stripped off her gloves. She began quickly packing up their evidence for Bourne. Tony finished his and then emerged wearing a clean, if slightly baggy, NCIS jumpsuit. He promptly rolled up the sleeve for a blood draw from the waiting EMT, which Kate also bagged, tagged and packed.  
  
Bourne stopped scratching and grabbed the box. All right guys, I'm outta here. Got my cell if you need me, but I drive like Gibbs... so try not to need me.  
  
Good God! Tony moaned.  
  
Just get it there in one piece, please! Kate said at the same time. The partners looked at each other for a moment, then two EMTs came and virtually dragged Kate to the ambulance.  
  
We need to transport, they shouldn't wait any longer! said one as Kate turned around to keep from being propelled backwards. Suddenly she put a hand to her head. Wow,' she thought, that headache came on fast.' As she stepped up into the ambulance and the antiseptic smell hit her she knew she was going to be sick. She spotted a basin and made a wild grab for it just before she vomited.   
  
Got you too, did he? croaked Gibbs. To Kate his words sounded like thunder in her suddenly too sensitive ears. Clutching both hands to her head to still its pounding, she slumped down on the other gurney. She didn't dare nod, her stomach still felt too rebellious. They stared at each other for a minute as the EMT safely buckled them for transport. Then the ambulance lurched on its way. As did the victims' stomachs. Violently. The EMT just sighed.  
  
Tony flipped open his phone to call Ducky the minute the ambulance doors were closed, telling him to meet Kate and Gibbs at the hospital. He also gave the doctor an update on their condition, including the fact that Kate looked considerably worse. I think she just didn't want to feel she was letting the team down, Duck. But she was about to fall over. She looked pale and shaky. If I had to guess, which is a bad thing, I know, I'd say she also had a killer headache.  
  
Don't worry, Anthony. I'll take good care of Caitlin and Jethro. I have a few friends at Memorial; we won't let anything happen to them. Ducky did his best to reassure the young man, but privately he was quite worried. Poison was always a tricky thing.  
  
Thanks, Ducky. That means I can concentrate on this whack job and his poison factory. Keep me posted, okay? With Ducky's reassurances ringing in his ears, Tony put away his phone and sought out the remaining casualties from the morning's search.  
  
Hey guys. The other ambulance should be here soon. Thanks for waiting. Tony sat down near the other two agents.  
  
Terry, the one with the splinted leg, spoke up. No problem, DiNozzo. When we saw Gibbs puking on the lawn we knew it was serious. How's he doing?  
  
Don't know right now. We're thinking the little shit poisoned him. He didn't look good when he left. May have gotten Kate, too. Don't know yet if he got me.  
  
Terry's partner, Bill, nodded his head and asked, Did they each find something where they were looking?  
  
I know Kate did, I'm not sure about Gibbs, but I think so, yeah. Why?  
  
And what about you, did you find anything?  
  
No. Again, why?  
  
Terry took over, Me and Bill been talking it out ever since Bourne overheard you guys start talking bout poison. We figure the dirtbag booby-trapped all the locations where we were supposed to find the evidence. Poison in the house is the bonus booby trap, supposed to sideline anyone quickly if they've managed to get that far.  
  
Tony found himself nodding along with their analysis, adding, Gibbs said he had a feeling that getting to that poison lab today was going to be very important. He thought it was in the basement. If you guys are right it means getting there is going to be even more difficult than we thought.  
  
There are two haz-mat suits in the truck we were driving, Bill added. I don't know if either one will fit you, DiNozzo, but if I were you, I would seriously consider staying out of that house unless you're properly suited up.  
  
Yeah, Bill, I..... Tony trailed off as he looked over his shoulder to see an ambulance bumping down the long, unpaved path that served as a driveway for the malevolent house squatting behind them. As the vehicle rolled to a stop, two EMTs flung open the back doors and hopped down. Tony greeted them and found that the other medics had briefed them via radio on the patients that had remained behind.   
  
Did they mention if there was any change in Agents Gibbs' and Todd's conditions? Tony couldn't stop himself from asking.  
  
No, sir, I'm sorry. But their ETA was five minutes when we spoke to them, so your partners should be in the hospital now. Try not to worry, sir. The EMT patted Tony's shoulder absently on his way past to assist Terry into the ambulance. Tony walked around to the rear of the vehicle and watched as both men were secured inside.  
  
Listen guys, take it easy, okay? And if you need anything special, Ducky's there, so just let him know. He stepped back so the doors could be closed and latched, and then moved to a position of safety as the ambulance lurched and rolled back down the bumpy track. The sudden quiet felt very unnerving. Tony tried not to let it get to him as he continued to think through the other two agents' theory.   
  
For Gibbs, the ambulance ride was horrible. He'd felt marginally better after being hosed down, although the process had been excruciating. The pain in his head had expanded to fill every possible space. The burning itch on his face was eased only slightly by the cool damp cloth of a burn pack. But the bump and sway of the moving vehicle caused the man to retch more than a few times. By the time he had nothing left to vomit, he was weak and exhausted, but the poison in his system gave him no peace. Pain and an unrelenting need to void an already empty stomach stayed his constant companions through what seemed an interminable ride.  
  
Kate fared little better. Her exposure to her particular toxin had been minimal compared to Gibbs, but it was painful nonetheless. The skin on her arms, from where the tops of her latex gloves had been, all the way up to her collar bones and her upper chest and midriff area were red and itching, painfully so. Burn pack dressings covered those areas, and they provided slight relief. Like Gibbs, she had been retching nearly nonstop since the vehicle began its roller coaster ride. A deep throbbing headache had started somewhere in the center of Kate's skull, as well. She envied Gibbs the ability to curl up into a ball of wretchedness; the dressings on her arms and chest forced her to lay flat and let the pain assail her. She was dependent on the attendant every time she vomited, as bending or twisting to reach the basin was out of the question. At last, the ambulance pulled into the emergency entrance. The wailing sirens were silenced, to the relief of the patients inside.  
  
Ducky had briefed the emergency room staff, and was now waiting to assist then in any way he could. He watched as the ambulance rolled to a stop, and the rear doors swung open. Oh, Lord, what have you two gotten yourselves into? he muttered, before capable hands whisked them away.


	3. Chapter 3

So if Gibbs and Kate found items, and they were poisoned, does that mean since I didn't then I'm not?' Tony thought, as he tried to reason it through. Not necessarily, although I went through all that mud well before Kate and the slime. And there was a lot more mud on me than there was slime on her. And I feel fine. And I sent my clothes and some blood off to Abby. And blood to the hospital.' Tony sighed and ran both hands through his hair. No use worrying about it. He flipped open his cell phone and called Abby. He didn't even get to hear a ringback before the lab tech answered.  
  
Abby practically snapped into the handset.  
  
Sorry, Abbs. It's Tony. Bourne get there with the stuff?  
  
Yeah, like nearly ten minutes ago. I've already started running the blood and all the clothes. He said he was going to go by the hospital, get some treatment for the poison ivy, check on Gibbs and Kate and then head back out to see if he could help you.  
  
Not that I can't use the help, but for Bourne's sake, I hope they make him stay in the hospital. That has to be the nastiest case of poison ivy I've seen in years. Okay, Abbs, call me as soon as you've called Ducky with the lab results. I'm working on a hunch from a theory that Bill and Terry came up with; I don't think I've been poisoned. But I'd really like to hear those words from your lovely lips all the same. Tony pictured the worried dark haired girl in the lab and hoped he'd been able to make her smile just a little.  
  
No problem, Tony. I'll call Ducky first. Unless it turns out you have been hit with something. Then I call the ambulance for you first. Got it, DiNozzo? Abby tried hard for a playful tone, but she knew the strain was still evident in her voice.  
  
Got it, Sciuto. Now back to the machines with you! I'm calling Ducky for an update. I'll tell him to call you as soon as I'm done. Tony softened his voice some, for her benefit. It'll be okay, Abbs. We've just gotta do our jobs for them and it'll be okay.  
  
Promise, Tony?  
  
As best I can, Abby. They exchanged goodbyes, each more worried than they wanted the other to know. Tony then called Ducky, and his concern grew when the doctor didn't immediately pick up.  
  
After a few rings, Ducky finally answered. Yes, hello, Anthony. I was just talking with the emergency room doctor now. I shall call you back shortly.  
  
And with that Tony was forced to wait in the oppressive silence, again. It was actually pretty odd. No birds or crickets or other wildlife. Which started him wondering what else the twisted little rodent had booby trapped. _Not_ that he would go looking, especially by himself. But they needed the evidence that this lab had supplied the poison slipped into the drinking water tanks for five separate Marine training groups. All any of the Marines could tell them for certain about the man who rationed it out was that he sat and smiled as he did so. And then just vanished afterward. Tony remembered those interviews, the looks on those men's faces. Some of them had come close to dying and all they could remember was that the man who would have killed them smiled at them as he did it. He shook his head. I have to find that evidence and get it out. Nailing that sociopath is all that counts.' He looked around again at the eerie setting. After that,' he thought, maybe using napalm on this whole festering parcel of land would be the kindest thing anyone could do.'  
  
The sound of an NCIS crime scene truck pulling in was unmistakable, especially with no other sound around. Tony approached it as it rolled to a stop. Guys, guys, guys! What took you so long? I called ages ago; we've got to get moving here!  
  
Agent Owens, the driver, rolled his eyes at the young pup. Listen, DiNozzo, just because we didn't go to Gibbs' school of How to Drive Like a Maniac', like you did, doesn't mean you get to criticize. We're here, so shut up.   
  
Tony glared at Owens for half a beat. Then, it was almost as if he could _feel_ himself channeling his alpha-male boss. Agents Gibbs and Todd are in the hospital, poisoned due to what's likely in that house. Now we're going in to get the evidence we need, we're going to do it my way and I am _not _going to take shut up' or any other crap from you. And that goes for the rest of your team. Got it, Owens? Tony didn't even give the slack-jawed man a chance to answer, as he turned his back, walked to the back of the truck and yanked open the doors. Now, I want a haz-mat suit that'll fit me and I want it now.   
  
Recognizing him immediately, the female agent in the back of the truck, flashed a broad smile. Tony always smiled at the ladies. She was disappointed, however, with his lack of response. She'd never seen this side of him, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. Sorting through the suits, she found the one most likely to fit and handed it to him. As he accepted it, he gave her a good once over.  
  
You're what, about five-three or so? Tony asked her. She nodded, wariness creeping into her eyes. Good. Suit up. I don't want to take more people in there than I have to, but I may need someone small. Tony searched his brain quickly for her name. Christie, right? Come on, let's go!  
  
Christie's hands were going for the suit even as her mouth began making the protest. But I'm not sure, I mean, wouldn't you want......  
  
Tony cut her off with a hard look. Are you a field agent or not? The woman simply nodded, frozen in place. Then get yourself suited up and get your butt out here. We've got work to do.


	4. Chapter 4

Abby felt as if she were trapped in a never-ending cycle: she'd fidget at her desk for a while, roll her chair around the lab to check all the machines' progress, then back to her desk for more fidgeting. Five minutes ago, a compassionate coworker had brought her one of her favorite jumbo drinks: it joined two more that others had dropped off earlier that day. As she drained the first cup and expertly pitched it in the trash, she thought of Tony and wondered how he was doing. This caused her to do another rolling chair lap of the machines.   
  
Sometimes this was the part of the job she hated most. The wait, the agonizing wait. The answer was right there; her fingers fairly itched to just reach out and pluck it from the machine in front of her. She picked up another drink instead, and leaned back in her chair. She made herself take a deep breath and let it out, then another in a vain attempt to relax her worried psyche. After an eternity of mere minutes, timers signaled the completion of tests. Now it seemed that her fingers couldn't move fast enough. She scanned the test results on her terminal even as she ordered copies to be printed for distribution. Never taking her eyes from the screen, she snatched up her desk phone and hit Ducky's speed dial button.  
  
Yes, Abby? Do you have something for me? Ducky answered after barely a full ring.  
  
Yeah, Ducky. They've both been poisoned with benzene hexachloride. It was detected on both Gibbs' and Kate's clothes, trace on Tony's. Blood tests confirm the same. Gibbs has the highest level of toxins, Kate only moderate. Tony has trace amounts. Abby gave this recitation in very matter-of-fact tones. There was absolutely no trace of the lighthearted girl Ducky was used to hearing.  
  
Very well, Abby. Thank you. Blood tests have been ordered here as well. Can you fax over your results so I can compare toxicity levels? I want to make sure that they're falling. There's not much else I can do. Ducky sighed at the news Abby had given him. This particular poison would either kill you or it wouldn't. It just depended on how much you'd had.  
  
Abby seethed at the doctor's seeming indifference. That's it? You're just going to sit there and watch them suffer? How could Ducky not do anything? This was Gibbs and Kate. We're more than just coworkers, Abby thought, we're friends!  
  
Hearing the fear behind her outburst, Ducky decided to let a little of the clinical mask slip, to let her hear his own pain and frustration. Abby, listen to me. This poison, this pesticide he used, it has no antidote. It causes liver and kidney damage,and it can cause nerve damage. Things that maybe the body can heal, or maybe it can't. The best I can do are to treat the symptoms, to ease their pain. Truthfully, if you have anyone to thank for their survival it's young Anthony. Getting them stripped and washed as quickly as he did may prove to be the most critical step in saving their lives. Now I'm going back to monitor their conditions. You, my dear girl, are going to get some food and then pull out that futon and take a nap. I know you won't leave the office, but I insist you take care of yourself. Jethro would remind you we still have a criminal to put away, and he will need his whole team for that.  
  
Tears rolled silently down Abby's cheeks; she made no effort to stop them. Thanks, Duck. I needed to hear that. All of that. She paused closing her eyes briefly before continuing, I know you'll take the best care of them. I'll call Tony and give him the update, then I promise I'll get something to eat and get some sleep. Bye, Ducky.  
  
Ducky walked into the room they had set up for Gibbs and Kate. He had requested the large single room to make things easier on both the staff and himself, as it eliminated running back and forth between separate rooms until the patients were more stable. Additionally, odds were that if one were to have a medical emergency, so would the other. The coroner sighed again and took a glance on each side of the heavy curtain dividing the two beds. Jethro had wound himself up in some sort of human pretzel. He didn't like the look of that, he hoped it didn't mean serious internal pain. Caitlin was lying on her back, arms still akimbo, furious and miserable at the same time. Ducky wasn't quite sure how she managed the expression, but there was no doubt about the emotion. Since Jethro looked to be more asleep than awake, Ducky decided to talk to Caitlin first. He approached her bed quietly and reached for her hand. Her eyes snapped to him, a spark of hope lighting in their depths.  
  
Caitlin, my dear. How are you doing?  
  
Well, I think I've finally stopped trying to retch up my empty stomach, so I guess that's progress, she smiled wryly. But my skin is itchy and crackly like I have a second degree sunburn, and the pounding in my head sounds like a maniacal snare drum player in a tornado. Kate found herself squeezing Ducky's hand maybe a little harder than she should, but she realized she hadn't heard anything -- good or bad -- and she was starting to get a little nervous. So, give it to me straight, Doctor. Am I going to live or die? She tried for a grin to go with the attempt at levity, but it was shaky at best.  
  
Ducky smiled back at her, though. I would say the patient's prognosis is good. Truthfully, Caitlin, I can't promise you anything, but you look good and sound good right now, so that's a healthy sign. He continued the discussion with her for a few minutes, asking her about possible areas of pain, weakness or shakiness. Kate answered him the best she could, and Ducky felt reasonably certain that Kate would make a full recovery.  
  
Okay, my dear, I've a prescription, then, for your skin. Unfortunately, I understand you got the worst of that, since your exposure was to liquid. But the salve will make you feel much better and should clear up the whole rash in less than a week's time. And we'll try and get you some pain relievers for that headache. Now that I know what I'm dealing with, I can start making it just a little bit better. Ducky smiled at her and then turned to go face the bear in his den.   
  
Gibbs had heard noises coming from the other half of the room. With effort, he straightened himself around so he could listen more carefully. After a couple of minutes of concentration, he'd determined that someone was speaking, and that his head hurt worse, if that were possible. He started to curl back around and get comfortable, but just as he settled, the curtain moved. Gibbs lifted his head slightly and barely opened his eyes. Any light was an additional piercing pain he just could not tolerate. His movement, however slight, was enough to alert the visitor that he was awake, though.  
  
Jethro, my friend, I have some news. Do you feel up to talking to me now? Ducky kept his voice hushed, reasonably certain that his friend's headache had not subsided.  
  
Gibbs considered the doctor's question for a moment. Truthfully he'd rather be unconscious, it hurt less that way. But he wanted to know what Ducky knew, so even though the conversation would be horribly painful, better to do it now and know what was coming. Even if it was the worst. Sure, Duck, he ground out hoarsely. But my throat's a little raw from all that puking. And you'll need to keep it pretty quiet, there's a herd of elephants stampeding in a circle in my head.   
  
Ducky dropped his voice to the level of a stage whisper, loud enough to be heard, but hopefully not with any resonance to cause pain. It seems you and Caitlin were both poisoned with benzene hexachloride, a pesticide. You've had the worst of it since yours was in powder form. You inhaled quite a bit, I imagine. I'll know exactly how bad it is as soon as I receive both Abby's and the hospital's blood test results. Then I can see how much you had at maximum concentration and how quickly you are outprocessing the toxin. As for the rest, I can give you a salve for any skin areas that are painful and analgesics for your headache. Ducky smiled wryly, What you don't know, my friend, is when we get your pain under control, your scalp is going to be the next thing you complain about.  
  
Gibbs thought for a minute and remembered trying to get the dust out of his short hair. That's what I get for keeping it high and tight,' he thought. He almost smiled before fixing his old friend with a piercing blue gaze. Right. Now what _aren't_ you telling me?  
  
The older man sighed deeply. Okay, that was the good news,' he thought. Now for the bad.' Jethro, there is no antidote for this kind of a poison. We treat it symptomatically. So that's what I'm doing. He raised a hand to forestall the question he knew was coming. As for anything else, I don't know yet, I have to run some blood tests. This pesticide affects liver and kidneys primarily. Central nervous system sometimes. So, now I have some questions to ask you, and then some tests to order for you and Caitlin.  
  
The two men talked for a few minutes, Ducky requesting various details about the younger man's current health complaints. Suddenly Gibbs interrupted, remembering something the doctor had mentioned earlier. Duck, I didn't inhale all that much dust!  
  
What? All right, Jethro. Tell me everything you remember. In his excitement, Ducky allowed his voice to rise. Gibbs winced in response. Sorry, dear boy.  
  
He gritted his teeth and willed the pain to subside, if only temporarily. I was in the attic, junk all over the place. I remember thinking it was odd; the piles of crap looked random but as I walked through them, they seemed to lead to a door. Instead of a knob or lock, it just had a small knot-hole. I pulled it open a few inches, then let it go -- sure enough, it closed by itself. Probably counterbalanced to close automatically, and maybe trap someone in there. Gibbs mused. He was silent for a moment, thinking about what had happened, what might have happened. I put my crime scene kit in the doorway to keep it blocked open. There was so much dust. Every time I moved, I kicked up a cloud. Couldn't see much, and I didn't like the idea of getting all that crap in my nose and mouth. So I got protective glasses and a mask from the crime scene kit. They kept the worst of it off my face and out of my nose and mouth. And I left my gloves on until I exited the house. I remember seeing Tony and getting ready to take them off, and then thinking I'd get the dust out of my hair first. After that it gets kind of hazy for a while. Exhausted from reciting his lengthy report, Gibbs could do little more than mutter, Any of that help?  
  
Yes, it might. Knowing you limited your exposure, makes me more optimistic about your chances. I still need to see your test results, mind, but that mask may have saved your life, Jethro. Every bit of that poison you kept out of your mouth makes a world of difference. And the less you inhaled, even better. Rest, my friend. I'll have the pain relievers and the salve to you as soon as I possibly can. In the meantime, let your body do what it needs to, to expel any remaining poison and heal what it can. That means _sleep_. I'll be back to check on you later. Ducky gave his friend's hand a brief squeeze, a familiarity the former marine would never have permitted if he weren't twisted up on a hospital bed.


	5. Chapter 5

Just as Tony and Christie, outfitted in matching haz-mat suits, were about to enter the "house from hell" as Tony had previously dubbed it, his phone rang. He rolled his eyes and thought, this better be good. He fished up the phone -- no small feat in a haz-mat suit -- and pulled off the helmet to glance at the number: Abby!   
  
"Abbs! Please tell me something good." Tony realized he sounded like a puppy begging for a treat, but he was so worried he didn't care. He needed some reassurance.  
  
"I don't know if it's good or not." Abby, on the other hand, just sounded tired. "The poison for both of them is benzene hexachloride. I called Ducky and he's treating them, but apparently there's no antidote. You either survive it or you don't."  
  
Tony's eyes widened with shock. "You mean they could die and there's _nothing_ I, we, anybody can do?" Frustration made him struggle with the words.  
  
"That's about the size of it. I spent a couple of minutes looking it up and what I found confirmed what Ducky said. So if you want to nail this bastard......." Abby waited, as she wanted Tony completely focused on her next words.  
  
"Tell me." His voice hardened and Tony felt his entire body go cold. Attempted murder or murder of two NCIS agents. Oh yeah, he wanted this. One hundred percent by the book. No way was this slime walking away from one single charge.  
  
"You're looking for a pesticide. It has several different brand names, a couple of other chemical names. It can also be used in veterinary practice for flea and tick removal. Do you want me to list what you're looking for now?"  
  
"No, we're going in in haz-mat gear, I don't know if I'll be able to access my Palm once I'm in. I don't trust the little piece of trash not to have this place booby-trapped in a dozen different ways. But now that I know what I'm looking for, I'll pay special attention to anything that fits the description. Thanks Abbs. By the way, I take it I'm poison free?"  
  
"Pretty much. There were trace amounts on your clothes and in your blood stream. From what Bourne relayed, my guess is you probably picked it up from Gibbs when you were standing near him and then helping him into the ambulance. You can check with Ducky, but he didn't seem worried. I think he'd say the same thing I will; you're more valuable there right now. Do what you have to do to get this guy." Abby's voice dropped a couple of tones as she begged, "And Tony, be safe. I don't want to have to come see you in the hospital, too." Or the morgue, she thought.  
  
"Thanks, Abbs. Don't worry. If you see me in the hospital, it'll be right by your side visiting those other two layabouts! We'll all be fine. Promise." Tony stressed those last words as much for his sake as for Abby's. The thought that Kate and Gibbs might die almost sickened Tony. 'It can't happen. I won't allow it. Not them, not my friends, not at the hands of this insane little shit. Somehow, some way, I will make this right.' "Get some rest, okay. You sound worn down. I'll call you as soon as I'm out. Oh, and Abbs?" Tony hesitated for a second, then thought, 'What the hell,' "Say a prayer for them from me, too. I haven't had a chance yet." With that he hung up the phone and repositioned his helmet, securing it tightly and checking the comm. unit inside. He then related the information he received from Abby and was gratified to hear even the grumpy Agent Owens take the news and the mission more seriously.  
  
Again, Tony and Christie approached the house. Tony remembered that Gibbs had exited this way with no problems, so he made sure to check the front entry stairs as he approached. He could see faint dust marks where Gibbs feet had been and told his current partner to follow him in those footsteps, they were known to be safe. Once inside, Christie handed over a device much like the one they used to look for the   
Marine in the coffin. Tony insisted Christie stay behind him, much to her disgust.  
  
'Why on earth did he bring me along then,' she thought. 'Just to be a stinking pack mule?' She crossed her arms across her chest and pasted a mutinous expression on her face. 'Chauvinist,' she thought, viciously. 'He just wanted to drag another woman through this stupid place, since the first one ended up in the hospital.' Although she followed his steps mindlessly, she was so preoccupied with her unpleasant thoughts that she didn't hear him talking to her.  
  
"Christie! Damn it Agent... Shales, pay attention!!" Tony was glad he finally remembered her last name. Now if _she_ could just remember where her brain was. He'd heard she was supposed to be good, one of the new up-and-comers. But he'd yet to see it.  
  
His outburst snapped her out of her internal diatribe. "Huh? Oh! What?" 'Brilliant, Chris, he already hates you. Go ahead, make it worse.' She took a deep breath, "Yes, DiNozzo?"  
  
"I can't get through here." He gestured to the collapsed flooring that lay ahead of him. "That's where Terry broke his leg, scanner says something fishy's over here and that area off to the side is too small for me to get through. I need you to go, _carefully_, scanning each step before you take it, through there, then back over to here. Check out everything and see if you can determine what's over here."  
  
She looked at him quizzically. "What difference does it make what's over there?"  
  
"I have to get in, and I can't that way," he pointed to the direction she would take. His eleven extra inches of height and larger body frame made it impossible for him to consider. "Also, we'll have to get the evidence out eventually and I need to know if we can move it through here safely." The explanation was given patiently, although Tony was anything but patient. "Now, go. But scan everything!!"  
  
Christie followed orders, hands shaking slightly. She scanned, and familiar enough with the equipment, knew roughly what she was looking at. It seemed sound enough to walk on. "Hey, DiNozzo, how big is Erickson, anyway?" She continued moving slowly and scanning until she was on the other side of the otherwise treacherous area.  
  
Tony looked at her across the three-foot expanse of ruined floorboards. "You know, he's not much bigger than you. Smart question. Can't believe none of us thought of it before now. Good thinking, Shales. That means the smaller areas probably are the safer ones, and the larger ones -- the ones we 'regular sized' agents would take -- are going to be dangerous."  
  
Christie smiled. "Maybe I should take point."  
  
"No way, Shales. You're more valuable now than ever. Gotta protect the most valuable asset. Let the more expendable man go first and clear the way." Tony looked over at the area he hadn't been able to see clearly on the scanner. "Okay, carefully now, and not too close. To quote Abby, 'Something seemed hinky'."  
  
Christie scanned carefully, nearly an arm's length in front of her. Suddenly something unfamiliar popped up on the screen. "Hey, Tony?" she called, a little nervous. "What's this? I don't think I recognize it."  
  
Tony looked at the screen she had turned toward him and paused as recognition sunk in. A _MINE_?? That lousy, rotten, festering... Tony began swearing venomously. After a minute he looked at Christie and said, "Point the screen down by your feet. Make sure you're not standing near any kind of trip wires or triggers." She did so and when all appeared to be safe he took a deep breath and looked her straight in the eye. "Okay, Shales, here's where this is going to start to get ugly. First, you need to try and get as close as you can to that mine without tripping it. Then we're going to send a picture of it back to HQ for evidence. He can claim he didn't know anything about the floorboards, but not a planted mine. Next, since I can't get through, you're going to have to head on back to the rear of the house, carefully. Take as much time as you need to do it. See if there is a safe rear entrance. But remember, you're going to be without backup. Don't take any unnecessary chances," he gestured to the broken floorboards as a reminder, "If I can get in to join you, then I will." Tony started to run his hands through his hair in an unconscious gesture, forgetting the helmet. "If I can't, we're going to have to get the bomb squad out here to defuse that mine. We need the lab, we're pretty certain the stairs, at the very least, are booby-trapped, and I'll bet you anything that mine is meant to destroy the lab as well at the poor sod who sets it off."  
  
Christie nodded solemnly. Funny, the more dangerous things became, the calmer she felt. This was why she'd joined NCIS. Not to be a paper pusher, which she seemed to do way too much. And now she knew why everyone spoke of Gibbs' team with that little bit of hushed reverence in their voice. This team, this whole team, knew its job. Well. And worked. Hard. And cared. Passionately.   
  
With the screen pointed just a hair in front of her feet, Christie moved forward by fractions of inches. Suddenly she could see wires come into view. Fascinated by the handiwork of the lunatic in custody, she stayed in place and began to play the screen around.   
  
Tony had been watching her carefully as she made her way closer to the mine. He could barely breathe, terrified for her safety. Suddenly she stopped and seemed distracted. He took a breath and was about to say something, when a look of fear crossed her face.  
  
"Tony, don't move." She stared intently at the monitor. God, but she hoped the angle at which she held the device made the image look, well, worse than it was. She steadied her hand as best she could, glanced up at Tony with a brief smile and then looked down at his feet. She puzzled for a moment, unsure, then looked back up at him. "Listen, he rigged that side pretty well. Just don't move at all for a minute, okay?" Pointing the monitor down at her own feet she did a thorough sweep and then took a couple of safe steps toward Tony. Then she aimed for Tony's feet one more time and took her time scrutinizing the image. Finally she sighed and explained to him what she thought she saw.  
  
"Okay, looks to me like your left foot is about two inches away from a detonation wire. Your right foot is about six inches away from another major cut in a joist. I wanted to be sure of what I saw before I told you to move. How did you get so close to those in the first place?"  
  
"I must have shuffled my feet some without thinking about it when I was trading off the equipment and getting you going off the far right side. Talk about careless, here I'm warning you to be careful and _I _almost send us up in a hail of shrapnel." Tony shook his head. "Think I'm safe to back straight up?" He noticed she bit her lip as she nodded, but it looked like reasonable affirmation, so he gently, slowly slid his feet back, first one, then the other. When no large cracking sounds or pelting metal assailed them after a foot of movement, they each let out a small sigh of relief.  
  
"Think you can get that image of the mine stored now?"  
  
"Sure, no sweat."  
  
Tony grinned, "Then I want the name of your antiperspirant. I'm sweating bullets over here!"  
  
Against her will, laughter burbled out of Christie's mouth. She cut it off sharply. "Listen, Mr. Wise Guy, we've got work to do! Now I have the image and I'm headed for the back of the house. And yes, I'll be more careful than you."  
  
Damn, thought Tony. She can snark just like Kate. Kate. I hope she and Gibbs are okay. Smile gone, Tony turned and carefully picked his way back out the front of the house.


	6. Chapter 6

Ducky indeed had influence at the hospital. Not long after their talk, a lab tech had been around to draw more blood. When Kate got a glimpse of how many tubes the tech had taken from both her and Gibbs, her only thought was Vampire!' The prescriptions for the skin irritations and analgesics hadn't taken much time either. Kate's rash was now covered with a thick layer of salve; it had helped to ease the burning itch quite a bit. The analgesic, whatever it was, went straight into her IV. She dozed fitfully on the bed, lying on her back. As her sleep deepened, she instinctively curled on to her side. Suddenly she cried out in pain as the severely irritated skin was crushed on to itself.   
  
A nurse came running, switching on a night light. Agent Todd? Ma'am, are you okay? What happened? She began to get Kate settled back in her bed.  
  
I guess I just tried to roll over in my sleep. I'm tired and I'm sick of this stupid rash! Kate felt like she just might cry from the exhaustion of the day.   
  
A loud bang from the other side of the curtain surprised them both. Kate? You okay? I've got you covered. Where is that damn DiNozzo? Gibbs slurred, and they heard a sickening thump.   
  
Go help him!! Kate ordered the nurse as she struggled to get out of bed. Pulling her IV pole with her, she trailed after the nurse to see what happened.  
  
Gibbs, for his part, was having a lousy night. Ducky's pain reliever had left him feeling no pain, but more than a little lightheaded. Every time he dozed off he would start to dream of yet another fugitive pulling a gun on him. As soon as they'd fire, Gibbs would be jolted awake again. Only to wait for the next. It was during one of these sleep cycles that Kate cried out. Somehow, it had penetrated his dream, and believing a team member in danger or possibly down, Gibbs lashed out in his sleep. First he knocked away the tray table, sending it into the wall. He called out to Kate and tried to get to her. But caught in the semi-dream state, he misjudged where he was and fell getting out of the bed. Contact with the floor brought him fully awake. It also brought back an assortment of pain.  
  
I'm _fine_, I said. I can get myself back into bed. Just leave me alone. Gibbs growled at the hapless nurse. He didn't want any witnesses to his already rotten night. Bad enough he was stuck having nightmares, did the wretched things have to come with an audience?  
  
Kate had walked up in time to witness this last bit of classic Gibbs grouchiness. Typical,' she thought. She was just about to intervene when Ducky stuck his head around the curtain.  
  
Caitlin? Jethro? What on earth are the two of you doing out of bed? This is not the best thing for either of you at the moment. Now perhaps this lovely young lady can help Caitlin back to bed, and I'll get you settled, eh, Jethro?  
  
Kate allowed the nurse to help her back to bed. She checked her IV and made sure Kate was as comfortable as possible. Then she turned off the night light and left. Kate closed her eyes and wished she could hear the whispered words on the other side of the curtain. She didn't remember if Ducky had told her all the side effects of the poison or not. Was Gibbs hallucinating? Was he getting worse? She'd had plenty of time to think about how close they all were, how much like a second family they'd become. Losing any one of the team would be like losing part of herself.  
  
Now, Jethro, talk to me. You're pale as a ghost!  
  
Gibbs sagged back on to the bed and allowed Ducky to help him get settled. Duck, whatever you gave me for pain really knocked me out. I started having nightmares. The next thing I knew, I heard Kate scream. I was still caught in the dream, I thought she'd been shot. So I tried to get to her and I wound up on the floor. Gibbs leaned his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes.  
  
Ducky looked at his friend with concerned eyes; nightmares were a less common symptom of pesticide poisoning. Anything else troubling you? Pain, cramps, anything along those lines?  
  
Headache's back; I hit the floor pretty hard. Gibbs eyed the older man, then said quietly, Stomach hurts some. I'm not really comfortable unless I curl up.  
  
The coroner tried not to frown at this news. to most people could mean just about anything. He gently prodded Gibbs upper abdominal area, and when he was reasonably satisfied he'd determined the source of the pain, he told Gibbs not to worry. I don't think it's serious. I'll probably send you for an CT scan tomorrow though, just to be sure. Now try to get some sleep, my friend. He wanted to check on Caitlin before going home for the night. He stepped quietly around the curtain to avoid disturbing her much needed rest.  
  
Kate had been fighting a losing battle with her drooping eyelids, as she listened for Ducky's return. She needed to know what was happening with her boss. She was almost back asleep when the faint rustle of the curtain caused her to snap her head in the direction of the sound. Ducky? Is Gibbs...? He's okay, right? She hated the sound of weakness in her voice.  
  
He's fine for now. He had a nightmare and said he thought you cried out. In his dream he thought that you'd been shot, so he was trying to get to you...  
  
And wound up on the floor. Kate finished for him. That makes sense. I did yelp pretty loud. I was half asleep and rolled over without thinking. I crunched up my sore skin; bout sent me through the roof! The nurse came in to check on me and a few seconds later, we heard Gibbs. He sounded really out of it, wanted to know if I was okay and where Tony was.   
  
Ducky nodded at her recollection, and was glad the two stories tallied, that was good. He chatted with Kate for a couple more minutes, checking her current pain levels. As he turned to go, she caught him with one last question.  
  
Say, Ducky? Where's Tony? I haven't heard from him at all. Kate was curious about what happened to her teammate's plans to continue the search. She was reasonably sure that the mud was not poisoned; if it had been, he'd have joined her and Gibbs by now.  
  
Anthony is still out at the house. He had another team sent out to help him retrieve Erickson's poison lab. I haven't talked to him for some time, I've been quite busy here. But there are others keeping track of his progress and monitoring your conditions for him. Ducky nodded towards Gibbs' side of the room as an inclusive gesture. I do know that he is quite determined to bring in everything that's there. Especially the evidence necessary to link Erickson to the poisoning of you two.  
  
Kate nodded her thanks and sighed as she leaned her head back on the pillow. She felt much better knowing Tony was out there leading the search team. She only wished she could help, instead of lay here. But no matter what happened with her and Gibbs though, Tony would make sure that squirrelly little poisoner would pay. That comforting thought lulled her into healing sleep.   
  
Tony stood at the rear of the house and contemplated his original search area. He was sure he had searched under the porch and stairs thoroughly. Its structure was sound and he had seen no other traps beneath it. He sighed and looked skyward. Dusk was fast approaching, it would be full dark before long. Agents Owens and Harrison were setting up two generator-powered halogen lights that they had brought with them. Tony took a few steps away, staying well clear of the deadly hot tub, before sitting down on the grass. The day had passed more quickly than he would have thought possible. In a way he felt nature was mocking him; while Ducky cared for Kate and Gibbs, he sat here, impotent in his quest to bring their poisoner to justice. The cold knot of fury lodged in his gut had a partner in the tendrils of fear curling around his heart. Fear that he might be unable to do this. That he might fail Gibbs.   
  
Enough!' he told himself. This is what that pig wants from you. He wants you to doubt yourself, so you will make a mistake. Don't give him the satisfaction.' Tony stood up and stretched as much as the haz-mat suit would let him. He wanted to know how Christie was doing inside the house, but he didn't want to break her concentration.   
  
he ventured very softly into the comm. unit.  
  
Uhnn... Just a sec. Her voice sounded preoccupied. After a lengthy pause she replied.   
  
Just wondering where you were.  
  
About halfway through the kitchen. This is like trying to follow a drunk while blindfolded! You wouldn't believe the stuff this guy's rigged up.  
  
Tony smiled, surprised at the energy and wonder in her voice. Oh, to be that innocent again... Yeah, unfortunately I would. Listen, I've got a very strange vibe about our whack job. We're getting closer to our goal and things should start getting nastier, don't you think?   
  
I'd call some of this crap pretty nasty.  
  
It's not nasty enough; so far this has been pretty easy. He cut off her protest mid-squawk, I know _you _don't think it's been easy, but there's been a logical path. This guy's too freakin' insane to let us live. It's gonna get deadly soon, I can feel it. And I don't want to lose anyone else, Shales.  
  
Fine. I'm about three, maybe three and a half feet from the door now. What do you want me to do? Christie thought Tony was overreacting, but it was his show. If he wanted her to stand here, that was fine with her.  
  
What's around you right now? Anything?  
  
Nothing. No objects, and scanner says no traps. Can I head for the door now?  
  
Tony let out a frustrated sigh. Something about all this felt very wrong, but... Yeah, I guess, just go slow, traps or not.  
  
Christie heard the tension in his voice. Okay, DiNozzo, I'm going slow. But I'm telling you this is all cle... OH MY GOD!  
  
Tony heard several gasps and then a decisive grunt, as if she'd hit something hard. Shales, dammit, answer me!! Tony took off on a dead run to the small wooden porch outside the back door. In his haste he paid no attention to the stairs he assumed were safe.  
  
Once they'd finished setting up the lights, Dave Owens headed back to the truck, bristling at the unfairness of it all. This was the kind of case that could make a guy's name at the agency, and it had fallen into the lap of the office ladies' man. He'd assumed when his team had been dispatched that he would be taking the lead, only to find himself relegated to monitoring communications. Not that _he_ wanted to be the one poking around what should have been a simple search and was now a crime scene that had claimed nearly half a dozen casualties. But it rankled that DiNozzo had snatched the choice away from him.  
  
Harrison was surprised that he hadn't been told to get into a haz-mat suit and follow Christie and Tony into the house. He didn't know how Tony had kept it all together, watching one teammate after another fall victim to Erickson's madness. To DiNozzo's credit, there had been no more injuries since he had taken charge, but that could change in a heartbeat.  
  
Once he had stowed the light boxes back in their place -- never leave crap lying around, Dave always said -- and made sure the latest of Shales' captures were coming through cleanly on the laptop, Harrison headed toward the rear of the house. Owens, who had just finished with the generator, brushed past him. He looked after his unhappy boss, then went in search of Agent DiNozzo. He found him sitting on the lawn, glaring at the house as if he were facing an adversary. Unwilling to disrupt his concentration, Harrison turned and contemplated the structure before him briefly. The porch was a small square, maybe eight foot on a side. The stairs were on the side, seven in all, along the back wall, to the right of where he stood now. He moved toward them, thinking to sit and wait until he was needed. Just as he lowered himself toward a step, his instincts kicked in, opting instead to drop to one knee beside the short flight of stairs. He spotted the tiny cylinder on the far right of the second step; at first, he thought it was a camera. Then he found the twin on the far left. Infrared sensors?' he thought. He quickly scanned the rest of the stairs and found another set three steps up. Harrison stood and walked back towards DiNozzo who was now standing and having a conversation with Shales. Harrison didn't want to interrupt, but this was important. Just as he reached the other agent's side, Christie's outburst came through the headset and DiNozzo took off for the stairs, yelling her name  
  
Harrison watched it all as if he were a fly trapped in amber. DiNozzo's foot hit the second stair, and a low level hum began. Harrison opened his mouth to speak, but Tony's feet moved faster. The second switch set off a faint hiss and the cold dampness he suddenly felt jolted him finally back to reality. DiNozzo, stop!!


	7. Chapter 7

Tony was just about to put his foot down on the porch when his senses caught up with his brain. The shiny metallic disks, spaced regularly across the floor, the gentle puff of some liquid misting out from nozzles along the house and the unmistakable feeling of one hell of a lot of electrical current nearby. Jerking himself backward to keep from making contact with the deck, he grabbed the railing and uttered a heartfelt, Holy shit! at the same time.  
  
Tony? You okay? Christie's voice was shaky. She was sitting on the kitchen floor, looking at a puddle of needle sharp darts.   
  
Oh, yeah, fine, thank you very much. First _you_ scare me half to death and then I try to do it to myself. What happened to you?  
  
Everything was great until I got to the mat by the door. He must have lined it with something that blocked the scanner, because it read clean. I put just enough weight on it to trigger a trap and received a shower of nasty-looking sharp darts. Christie was slowly getting her composure back. She took out several evidence bags to preserve a few of the darts, layering the bags to prevent the tips from poking through. Your turn. What earned the latest DiNozzo curse?  
  
Forget that! You didn't get hit by any of those darts did you? They're probably poisoned.  
  
Really, you think? I got out of the way just in time, thankfully. I was just moving forward when I felt the trigger beneath my foot click. If I hadn't been going slow I'd've been toast. The closest dart landed about an inch away from my foot. Now, what happened out there? Christie was carefully curling the mat underneath the darts and attempting to clear them away from the door.  
  
Death trap on the porch. No biggie. Say Harrison, thanks for the warning. What tipped you off?  
  
Heard the hum, got damp from the mist, said Harrison Listen there's something...  
  
Get out of that shirt immediately, and wash off anywhere the mist touched you. Tony cut him off. Not from the hot tub! That's poisoned! Go grab a bottle of water from the truck. And save the shirt as evidence, just in case. As he watched the disgruntled agent head for the front of the house, Tony shook his head and muttered, Great, just what I need, another one to land in the hospital.   
  
Christie reclaimed his attention. You wanna clarify that death trap comment?  
  
Sure. Erickson's electrified the back porch. And then for an added degree of difficulty, he has a mist of some sort spraying from nozzles set in to the back wall of the house.  
  
_Electrified_? You're joking. Electrified it how? Shouldn't that be impossible?  
  
Look for yourself, if you can get close enough to the door. Once Tony saw her face appear in the window of the door, he gestured to the now glowing spots covering the last remaining access to the house.  
  
So what are you going to do? She looked up at him.   
  
Well, in theory, any rubber should insulate me. What worries me is what's spraying from those nozzles. If it's just water, it simply ups the electrical stakes. If it's anything else, then we might have other problems. Tony sighed deeply. Weariness ran bone deep, and he was heartily sick of everything Erickson had thrown at him. More than anything Tony just wanted to quit, but he knew that he owed it to Gibbs and Kate, not to mention the sickened Marines, to carry on.   
  
Okay, I'll agree with you there. But what else would it be? And wouldn't he run out of an alternate fluid faster? Water is a slightly more reliable supply. Christie was willing to help reason it through, but she didn't like where it was going any better than he did. Didn't there just have to be an end to how far one person could go? Come on, Tony, she pleaded, isn't it just too much to think it's anything but water?  
  
Tony, from his position on the stairs, let out a mirthless chuckle. I might have agreed with you before. But not now. Arthur Erickson III seems to be very serious when it comes to doing bodily injury to other human beings. He sagged against the house, wondering if there was indeed any way to beat this latest trap.   
  
Owens looked up as Harrison headed toward him, frantically unbuttoning his shirt. Pete, what the hell are you doing out here? I told you to stay back there a keep an eye on DiNozzo and his circus for me. Christ! He threw up his hands in disgust.  
  
What are you listening to Dave, NPR? You're supposed to be monitoring communications in case of emergency! That little maggot rigged the back porch with some electrical whosits and water or something. Pete Harrison had an awful time communicating with his superiors when he became flustered, which was probably why he never got ahead.   
  
What? All right, spit it out, let's hear the whole thing. Owens sat back and gave the junior agent an irritated glare. Not that he'd admit it, but he had been listening to NPR. He assumed Harrison would come running if there was a problem; if he had to be stranded out here, he'd at least try to make the best of it.  
  
Pete swallowed hard. DiNozzo was worried that this might have been more than water. He said I should grab a water bottle and rinse off. I'm doing that first. He was shaking after he said that. He'd never stood up to Dave before. Then again, he'd never seen some of the things he'd seen today either. Maybe DiNozzo was a skirt-chaser, but he was on _Gibbs'_ team. It was no secret that Gibbs was never assigned agents -- he was always allowed to choose them himself. And by now, it was obvious to him why anyone on Gibbs team really was worthy of respect. Pete knew if it had been up to him, he could never have stepped in and taken over for Dave in a spot like this. Not like DiNozzo had for Gibbs. Maybe it was time to stop letting other agents' attitudes make up his mind for him.   
  
He looked over at his boss. How could Owens have missed all this? Pulling on the last haz-mat suit, he said, Trust me, Dave, the nutball that set all this up really knew what he was doing. I swear I don't know how Shales and DiNozzo have made it this far. There's been some really weird shit in that house. Shales must have over a dozen captures of specifically set traps that Erickson can't deny knowledge of, at least ten more he can claim he didn't know about. She has samples of what we assume to be poisoned darts, and DiNozzo's back there trying to see if there's a safe way across an electrified deck.  
  
Owens sat in silence for a moment. And here he thought DiNozzo was just being overly dramatic after his partners were poisoned. Owens knew the mission was serious, but he was pretty pissed to have been put in a junior position to some self-important pretty boy with a case of booby-trap paranoia. Perhaps he had been a little unfair in that initial assessment. It seemed nearly all of Tony's fears had been justified, and he and Shales had apparently worked together to keep each other alive. Owens made a decision he probably should have made a few hours ago. He radioed for an ambulance to be dispatched to the scene. Just in case. Then he did what he should have been doing all along, he switched the radio to monitor Shales and DiNozzo.  
  
Tony looked at the glowing disks with complete revulsion. Then he bent down until his eyes were level with the decking material. It looked like the wood had been coated with something rubberized. Okay,' he thought, that explains why the deck isn't burning. Now does that mean I can get across as well?' He briefly considered just walking across the damned thing, if only because he was sick of letting some demented perp call the shots from a holding cell in DC. Then he did the sensible thing, asking Harrison for one of the extra haz-mat suits from Bourne's truck.  
  
As Harrison rounded the corner carrying the suit, he decided to show the hotshot young agent who the smart one was. Hey, genius! Ever think of just calling the electric company and getting them to cut the power?  
  
Christie, watching silently from inside, waited for Tony's answer. She'd wondered about this too, but then she considered what they'd learned of Erickson.   
  
Tony looked over at Harrison and sighed. Do you really think anyone as twisted as _our_ weasel would leave something this sophisticated to the flip of a switch from Virginia Power? If there's anything I've learned today, it's that if you think you've defeated one trap you've just walked into three more. My best guess is that if we kill the power, either he's wired into another source we don't know about, or he has a back-up generator. Or, in true evil genius style, he has a bomb rigged to detect a loss of power, taking out our evidence and us, and probably most of the property to be on the safe side. Still want to cut the power?   
  
Harrison paled as Tony went through his little speech. He hadn't considered any of this. It wasn't as if he hadn't been paying attention today. He just didn't think it could keep going like this; No one could be that evil.  
  
Christie just nodded to herself as she listened to Tony. She'd guessed right. She knew good old jerk-boy would have backup power... but a bomb? Christ, now that was something she hadn't thought of and she hoped Tony was wrong about that.  
  
Okay, let's see if a standard issue NCIS haz-mat suit can hold up to one back porch death trap. Tony moved as close as he dared and then held the suit just under the arms and lowered it until it touched the deadly surface. At first nothing seemed to happen, then he began to feel a low buzz move through his body. He shifted, and in doing so, shifted the suit. The heat from the disks was starting to melt the rubber on the soles of the feet -- troubling, but if he moved quickly, not fatal, he hoped. What was more disturbing was that his movement had triggered a third sensor. Yet another set of jets sprayed an unknown liquid onto the deck, crossways to the first. Tony leapt backward on the stairs, flinging the suit onto the deck and grabbing for the railing to keep from falling.  
  
That's it! he exploded. I've had it. This isn't real anymore, it's insane! Forget the damned evidence, I'm just going to go shoot the smarmy bastard. Several dozen times! Tony slammed his fist into the railing in frustration.   
  
Christie watched and listened as the calm, competent man she'd been working with sank onto the stairs in a pool of rage and frustration. She ached with wanting to rescue him from his feelings of defeat, but the words wouldn't come. She forced herself to try anyway.   
  
Well, we must be on the right track. I mean, if it's this difficult to get in, Erickson must actually have something worth protecting in here. Right?  
  
Tony swiveled his head around to look in her direction and snorted. Then he spied the haz-mat suit on the porch. It had begun to come apart in shreds. What the hell?  
  
What, what the... Christie looked where Tony's gaze had been drawn. Is that the suit? What's wrong with it? Is that from the electrodes?  
  
I don't know. I don't know if I want to know! What I do know is that I'm hungry, tired, pissed beyond belief and I have finally discovered that I can indeed hate one human being more than I ever thought possible. He let out an angry and frustrated sigh. Ah, hell. All right. There has got to be a way to get inside, right? I just must be overlooking the obvious.   
  
Christie thought about that, and began running the whole sequence of events over in her head. Tony was right, they had to be missing something.  
  
Harrison decided, however, that he'd had about enough. He, too, was tired and hungry, never mind that he'd been there only half as long as the other man. Listen, DiNozzo, this is ridiculous! We're chasing our tails out here. It's late, you've been at this all day... Let's just find a way to get Christie out of there safe, and call it a day... His voice trailed off as he saw the fury building in the younger agent's eyes.   
  
Tony shot with venom. My partners, my _family_, are in the goddamned hospital because of this pig. Everything that can put him away is in this house. If I have to die seeing to it that Erickson never again walks free, then so be it. He knew exactly what he was doing when he gave us this place, and when. I don't know that we can afford the time we're taking, much less an extra six or eight hours. You want to go? Fine, go. I'm staying. As sick to death as I am of this entire pile of psychotic logic, I will not let my team and those Marines down. He turned away from the other agent, not caring in the least what the man did at that moment.


	8. Chapter 8

Startled out of her reverie by the angry words exchanged by the two men, Christie thought about what Tony had said. She wondered if her own partners felt that way about her and doubted it. She'd begun to feel some of that connection today working with DiNozzo. She envied Gibbs' team now more than ever. Of course if Tony ever decided he was interested in a personal connection she might consider... Wait a minute... connection...'   
  
Christie called.  
  
came the grouchy response.  
  
What was it you said about knowing how to warn Tony about the porch?   
  
I said I heard the hum and then I felt the dampness. Why? Shit! DiNozzo, There were switches on the stairs!  
  
Tony just stared at Harrison. And you thought you'd save this bit of news?  
  
NO! No, no. I was coming over to tell you I'd found them and that's when you took off up the stairs, then you yelled to go change my shirt and I forgot. I mean I saw it all happen in slow motion but I...  
  
Tony waved off the rest of the other man's explanation. It's fine, Harrison. What kind of switches, where?  
  
he said, pointing out both pairs of sensors.  
  
Tony carefully waved his hand through one beam area, but there was no reaction from the elements on the deck. Doesn't look as if it's an on/off. Harrison, check the other one? He retreated up the stairs to see if there had been any effect. All three of the items were still functioning. He sighed. Looks like these are just on' switches. But if we have on switches, shouldn't there be off switches?  
  
I'm right there with you, Christie chimed in. I'm looking around the door area right now. In case we can't find one, is there a plan B?  
  
Yeah, but it involves ripping the antistatic mats out of the trucks.  
  
That's destruction of...  
  
...government property. He finished with her. Yes, I know. But they're thick enough that even if the bottom layer melts we might get away with it. Maybe. Tony eyed the ruined haz-mat suit on the deck again. He noticed the rubberized coating was taking on a strange appearance as well. On second thought, scratch plan B.  
  
Christie paused in her search to peer out the window. Riiight. Got a plan C?  
  
Yeah. I liked it for my plan A, actually. Wrecking ball.  
  
Oh, no. Very bad idea. This maggot may have been married to poison, but he was having an affair with things that go boom. Christie had been appalled at the number and types of explosive devices she'd found in the house.  
  
Harrison called up from his spot on the grass, What about the railing?  
  
Tony looked at him and then over at Christie. She shrugged. Tony reached out and tugged on the on the section of railing nearest to him. It was flat and wide, maybe six inches, and seemed sound enough, but everyone knew that was no guarantee.  
  
What do we have for ladders in the trucks? Tony asked  
  
Christie's response was quick. We have a ten-foot folding metal ladder and a twenty-foot rescue roll ladder, also metal. The hooks might fit over the rail but I'm pretty sure the side bars would come in contact with the floor of the porch.  
  
Owens chimed in, I just checked the other truck. Same same.  
  
We'll keep them in mind. The biggest problem is staying out of range of whatever's being sprayed. I can give walking the rails a shot. Worst that happens is I hit the deck and Tony joked, trying to lighten the tension a little.  
  
Hang on, Christie said, There's a funny spot above the door. I want to check it out.  
  
Funny how? Don't take any chances, Shales. Tony admonished the younger agent.  
  
No, I don't think it's anything like that, DiNozzo. It could be a panel that someone would hide switches behind. I just can't get a good look at it, I'm too damn short. I need a chair. Aha...   
  
Shales! Stop! Tony had seen her movement through the window in the door. You had better be checking to make sure it's safe, or I'll come kick your sorry, broken ass in the hospital.  
  
Christie's hands were shaking as she took the scanner out of the leg pocket where she'd secured it earlier. She'd nearly forgotten about the floors inside, what with trying to bypass the danger outside. Clear. Another step and she'd reached the chair, which was wired into something in the floor: more plastique. But this was arranged differently, something about this suggested... Christie dredged her brain. She'd taken a class on explosives some time ago, it had been required. There was something about shaped charges... think... she breathed, as she looked again at the chair and then at the screen. This is _sick_! Beyond sick. I can't... She backed away almost blindly until Tony's voice saved her again.  
  
Shales! Shales, dammit, snap out of it before you get us both killed! Now, I'm not dying here today and neither are you.  
  
Oh my God, Tony. I don't know how much more... She involuntarily looked at the wall opposite the chair. She swallowed and explained, There's a chair off to the side, I figured I could use it to stand on. Thanks for reminding me to check everything. It's kind of an old chair, it's got metal spindles, but the back is broken, there's no top across where there should be on the spindles. She was shaking now, and she knew all the words were coming out wrong. So I got to the chair okay and I was about to take it and check under it and something was attached to one of the legs, like under it. And I looked further and saw more plastique. I mean, God knows, seen enough of it today in this place. She was rambling now, great. And her shaking was getting worse. She could not afford the nausea that was threatening. So, of course, I take a good look at it so I can get another capture. Habit now; find a bomb, get a picture, hey! And I notice it's arranged funny, you know, not like all the other ones. And I gotta think a minute. I mean, I know I've heard something like this before. And then it comes to me; shaped charges, you know, bombs that go off in specific directions. So I take a look at the whole thing again and I realize that he's set this thing up so that if you stand behind the chair, like I was and you grab it, like I was about to, the bomb goes off and you get impaled on the chair and blown across the room and, oh my God, Tony I can't help it, I'm gonna be sick!!   
  
The urge to run outside was powerful, but mindful now of just how deadly movement could be, her only option was to risk airborne poisons. Frantically she yanked at the helmet and fell to her knees as she emptied her stomach. She felt tears streaming down her face: tears of exhaustion, of weakness and of anger. She was a trained federal agent, wasn't she? Would another agent behave this way? Would any still respect her now that she had?  
  
She stood up shakily and tried to draw her gloved hand across her mouth. She glared at the offensive covering, then grimaced at the inability to rid herself of the sour aftertaste of horror. As she replaced her helmet she knew that it would be this moment when cynicism would begin to tailor itself to her.  
  
Tony had listened to Christie describe the latest installment in Erickson's deadly plot. His earlier feelings had mirrored those he now heard in her voice: agitation, shock, humiliation. He was happy to hear her basic humanity come through as well, as she refused to accept what this animal was willing to do to another person. He wondered, Will this break her, or will it make her tougher? Guess there's only one way to find out -- keep a close eye on her for a little while. She's pretty shaken up.'   
  
Okay, Shales, Tony said once she'd suited back up, other than the fact that you'd like to brush your teeth and wash your face, do you feel better?  
  
Yeah, I guess, Christie's answer was pretty lackluster. She was just waiting to be chewed out by someone.  
  
You sure? Because if you start to feel strange, say so. We don't know if there's anything airborne in that house, especially because no one made it that far back. So, anything strange, and you better speak up pronto. No heroics. Got it? Now, any ideas on that panel above the door?   
  
Me? The last suggestion I gave nearly had me looking like the end of Act Three in Friday the 13th'! I'm surprised you'd trust me with house-sitting a fern right now! Christie erupted. Waiting for his reprimand was unbearable, and she had had all the tension she was going to take for one day.  
  
Tony felt relief, hearing the fighting spirit return to Christie's speech. She might just make it yet. Sorry, Shales. No ferns here. And since you're _not_ Jason's latest victim, tell me what you think.  
  
Fine. If the chair is for killing, and our resident psycho is my height, and that is indeed where those switches are, then the rotten bastard's got to have hidden something nearby to help him with the -- ahhhh, now what could this be, hmmm? Christie had been searching while she talked and had found a hidden panel in the lower cabinetry beside the door.  
  
Christie, be careful! Tony well remembered some of his early assignments and knew that being faced with your own mortality could take its toll on you. It was all too easy for fear to swing all the way to recklessness.  
  
Look, DiNozzo, I'm being as careful as I can. But let's face it, our perp isn't just a lunatic, he's an undeniable sociopath. Completely irredeemable as far as the human race goes. If he's gone to this much effort just to keep us out of the house, I'm going to consider myself lucky just to see sunrise. There; got it. Little twerp built himself a clever little riser into his cabinets. Now, since this is too high to be a mail slot, let's see what we have. Christie scanned the suspect area above the door and smiled when it showed nothing. Nothing shows on the scanner, I'm guessing he's lead-lined this. Otherwise I'd be seeing some of the two by fours that should be here. She carefully tapped around the edges and was finally rewarded with the feel of a faint click. The panel popped open on cleverly hidden hinges to reveal a number of switches, some labeled, some not. Well, score one for the good guys for a change. Let's see, there's one here labeled Elec.' Shall I give that a shot?  
  
Tony had been standing on the stairs, listening and waiting. Sure, go ahead, he told her wincing with uncertainty.  
  
Christie flipped the switch and waited. Hearing nothing from either agent, she ventured an impatient,   
  
That may actually have done what we'd hoped for. I don't feel current anymore, and the disks' glow is definitely fading, Tony replied, hope lightening his voice for the first time in hours.  
  
Harrison chimed in, Hum's gone, for what that's worth.  
  
Next up, I have a choice of Water' or Benzene', she told them, reading the labels of the next two switches in line.  
  
Try Water' first, advised Tony. Let's see if that takes out the jets on the house. Those were the first jets that came on, the ones that got Harrison.  
  
Okay, here goes. The second switch was flipped. This time the response was more immediate.  
  
Thank God!!! Harrison was relieved to see that the water jets were indeed the ones that had sprayed him.  
  
That just leaves these last jets. Must be the benzene, don't you think? Nasty piece of work, our slimeball. Make you think all you need to do is insulate yourself against the electricity, then trigger a spray of rubber solvent. Tony shook his head in disbelief.  
  
Nice. Okay, here goes the last one. She toggled the switch and waited for confirmation.  
  
Looks like that's it, Shales. It's kind of scary, you know? Something actually going our way. Hm, I'm having trouble seeing the trigger for this one.  
  
It's not on the top stair or the back wall of the house? Christie tried to think where else would be a likely place for the final trigger.  
  
Not that I can see. Let's see, if I were a totally deranged piece of pond scum, where would I have put a trigger for a potentially deadly chemical? Tony mused, while searching the area with his flashlight.  
  
Well, at least your mood has improved, she quipped.  
  
I tend to feel better when I'm making progress. Aha! Sneaky little shit.  
  
I take that to mean you found it. Care to share?  
  
He ran a fine wire across the porch in a few places. I'm guessing it must be on a hair trigger, because I didn't touch the suit to the wood with very much force. Tony stood up and asked Harrison to adjust one of the halogen lamps a little. With the change in angle, light now glinted off the wires. Hit the water switch again. Let's see if we can rinse this deck off before I head in.


	9. Chapter 9

Abby awoke with a start. A glance confirmed she was still at work, something that had happened enough times that it didn't disorient her anymore. She sat up and focused on the clock at her desk. 2:38 a.m. Wonder what woke me up?' she thought. She stood and stretched, then paced her lab. No tests were running; all the critical lab work was finished and the results distributed hours ago. Now she was waiting for Tony to bring her whatever else he found from Erickson's . Pocketing her cell phone, she decided to take a walk and visit whomever was supposed to be keeping tabs on Tony and on Kate and Gibbs conditions.  
  
Even with the night staff, the corridors had an eerie feeling. Somehow the last eighteen hours had taken on a menacing tone. From the moment she received Tony's call about Kate and Gibbs, the normally spunky girl felt unseen fingers of evil plucking at the edges of her world. She dealt with the evil that men do every day, as a matter of course. She tried to shake it off, tried to put it in its place, but this dark depravity would not be vanquished. It taunted her with every shadow, teased her with every whispered noise. She fought to summon a smile, the ghost of the laughter she might otherwise have had, to hold fear and dread at bay.  
  
Hey guys, she called, as she entered the bullpen. Who's monitoring Tony's progress?  
  
One of the other agents in the room gestured toward MTAC. Morrow, now. Apparently it's turned ugly.  
  
_Turned_ ugly? How much uglier... Wait, what happened? Fear bubbled up, threatened her composure.  
  
Don't know. I wasn't listening. But whatever DiNozzo and Shales found, Morrow near had a fit.  
  
Abby thanked the agent, not even bothering to note who it was. Breathe, dammit, just breathe,' she told herself. She'd been so afraid that someone else, that Tony, had been poisoned, or killed. She reached the sanctuary of her lab and sank to her knees on her futon, arms wrapped around herself, head bowed. The words were barely whispered, but they were uttered nonetheless. Whatever God is listening to me, you _will_ bring them all home safe. You _will_ protect them and heal them and bring them all back safe. You _will not_ allow a man so devoid of humanity to defeat some of the most wonderful and most caring people to brighten the world. Trembling with the forcefulness of her declaration, she knew this was no mere supplication. Her burdened heart held no more room for doubt.  
  
Tony and Christie stood side by side for the first time in hours, poised on the brink of what could be Hell.  
  
So, Shales, you want to hand me that scanner? Cause I'm sure not setting foot on those stairs without it.  
  
You want to check for any infrared switches first? Or any other kinds while you're at it? I don't relish stepping into whatever nut boy escalates to from electricity and rubber solvents.  
  
Tony lay down on the floor and began examining the first of several stairs. No switches that I can see. He stood up, brushing himself off out of habit. Hang on, let me check up high.  
  
The pace continued as they progressed down the stairs, with Tony checking for sensors both high and low and Christie scanning. At the bottom was a bare concrete floor covering a small open area and three doors.  
  
Exhaling the breath she was unaware she'd been holding, Christie spoke up first. Now that was just way too easy.  
  
Yeah. Creepy easy. Okay, ladies first. Pick a door. Tony held out his arm in a gentlemanly gesture.  
  
Oh, thanks. Let me be the one that gets us killed. Okay, I pick... She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Door Number Two. She headed for the middle door, using the scanner to check for traps, switches, anything embedded in the door frame or surrounding woodwork.  
  
Tony visually checked the area around the door for any other traps or switches. When each was satisfied they had found none, they gave the other a very wary nod. Tony held Christie back when she would have gone for the door.  
  
No way, Shales. Let me do this. Slowly he turned the knob, every sense on high alert. He felt no clicks as the knob released and the door swung open. Cautiously he stepped ahead, just as Christie yanked at his back. He turned his head and she thrust the scanner at him. Giving her a grateful look, he continued into the room, using the scanner to guarantee safe progress.  
  
As Tony entered he could see that the room was roughly rectangular in shape. There was a low screen of some type, maybe four to five feet high, dividing the room into equal sections. Moving slowly and carefully, Tony didn't like look of the room and as he rounded the edge of the screen he let out a string of profanity that would have scorched some of the most seasoned ears.  
  
You gonna tell me what caused that, or you just gonna swear some more? Christie asked.  
  
Holy cow, DiNozzo! I didn't think you knew some of those words! What gives? Harrison joined his partner's concern.   
  
I'm going to have to have a serious discussion with Gibbs about your use of adjectives, buster. Now what's the problem? Even Owens couldn't stay out of it.  
  
Tony moved to wipe his brow with his shaking hand, once again forgetting the helmet. How about, um, somewhere between thirty and fifty pounds of semtex rigged to blow in about forty-five minutes? If the timer's accurate.  
  
His statement was met with varying echoes of his original profanity, and Owens' assurances that he'd call in the bomb squad.  
  
Clamping down on his understandable alarm, Tony took a couple of minutes to check out the setup of the bomb. He was right about it being wired into the power, in a way. Erickson had set up a laptop to monitor Virginia Power; if it was programmed for more than that, he couldn't tell. There were also various runs of primer cord leading into the ceiling, giving him the impression that there were either other triggers or more explosives in the house. As he looked it over, Tony became nauseated at the idea that he'd been able to think enough like that madman to expect this.  
  
So how did we trigger it? Christie asked, as Tony exited the room.   
  
He couldn't answer for sure. I suppose I'd have to know what the original timer was, then I could guess. Could have been the porch, could have been the step you found n the kitchen, or the switch panel. Might have been a light switch somewhere, he shrugged. For all I know, the damn thing's been counting since Gibbs, Kate and I set foot on this cursed property. He redirected her attention to the more pressing matter.  
  
All right -- two more rooms to check, and not much time to do it. Do we split up and take our chances that the doors are safe, considering Big Bertha there? Or do we go one at a time?  
  
How about if we do a combination? Christie suggested. You visual one door while I scan the other, then we switch. If we move quickly, but thoroughly we should be able to do this. Then we can each search a room.  
  
Good thinking, Shales. We'll make a topnotch agent out of you, yet. He gave her a genuine smile and a pat on the shoulder before taking the far left door.  
  
They cleared the doors as quickly as possible, ever mindful of the clock ticking down. Carefully Christie opened Door Number One, as she thought of it, and peered inside. At first glance, she could see a small workbench, the shelves above it laden with bottles; amber, green and clear. Not all the labels were readable in the dim light, but the unmistakable skull and crossbones was easily visible on more than a few. Clearly this was the much sought after poison lab. She looked back at Tony, wondering if he would rather have this opportunity, knowing what he had endured this day. With that thought in mind, she headed for Door Number Three.  
  
Tony's door opened into what appeared to be a working space for Erickson. A large, drafting-style table sat in the middle, papers and notebooks scattered upon it. To the right, bookcases lined the wall, filled with video tapes. He saw the camera , but it appeared to be pointed at a blank wall. He searched the paneling covering the wall and found a small door. Kneeling down, he carefully swung it open. And could not hold back the the gasp at what he saw.  
  
Tony? Are you okay? Christie had just stepped inside the door.  
  
Tony knew his voice was harsh. He tried to soften it some. What do you need?  
  
I found the poison lab. I wondered if you wanted to be the one to...  
  
Tony was shaking his head. No. I'll handle this room. Owens? You there? He choked out the words, anger and horror clutching at his throat.  
  
What do you need, DiNozzo?   
  
Erickson's been torturing people down here. Get those ladders set up, I don't want to risk the stairs. And we'll need at least two ambulances. I think some of them might survive.  
  
The stunned look in Christie's eyes crashed into the sickened look in Tony's. She took a step in his direction, for what, she couldn't have said.  
  
he snapped. That evidence is critical! Without it, everything else is just so much smoke and mirrors. Harrison! Get your butt in here and help her. Don't use the deck stairs and just stay to the right in the kitchen. Everything else is clear.  
  
All four agents worked furiously as time seemed to bleed away. The bomb squad arrived, and having been briefed on the deadly nature of the house, miraculously didn't storm ahead and send them all up in a glorious inferno.   
  
Geez, would I like to study this place! one of them said as Owens led them past Tony.   
  
Tell you what, if you can keep it from blowing to hell and back, we'll let you study it when we're done with it. Right now, you got eighteen minutes, Tony threw over his shoulder, as he helped to heft yet another Stokes stretcher up the stairs.  
  
Boxes of evidence flowed up the stairs in what felt like a never-ending chain. Chemicals, drugs, plants, venoms, notebooks, videos, correspondence; all of it bagged, tagged, packed and moved faster than any agent thought that it could possibly be done. Remembering his conversation with Abby, Tony saw the veterinary flea powder and nabbed the bag to examine it briefly. The main chemical component was indeed benzene hexachloride. Dual purpose,' he thought sourly, recalling the cages containing dead and dying dogs and cats, next to the abused and maimed human victims. His thoughts were interrupted by the captain of the bomb squad.  
  
Okay, we think we have it in stasis. He waited expectantly.  
  
Stasis. What's that mean to us? Tony couldn't shake the impression that this guy seemed more like a movie character than an experienced EOD agent.  
  
Well, it means we've stopped it from counting down. At least we're ninety-eight percent sure we have. But we can't figure out how to defuse it. He swallowed uncomfortably.  
  
The four NCIS agents exchanged brief glances. You watch the bomb, Tony instructed the squad captain, and we'll haul ass. Just in case.  
  
The sky was pale with predawn light as they exited the house for the final time. Fatigue slowed their steps as they moved toward the trucks, the bomb squad still chattering animatedly behind them.  
  
Now you know that bomb could still go off, right? The captain did not want any blame coming back on his desk.  
  
As long as no one's in there when it does. Tony answered, tiredly. Still think napalm would be better.


	10. Chapter 10

Dawn was just breaking when Kate stirred. Guess I slept after all,' she thought. Reflexively she went to stretch, but the pain of her damaged skin brought the motion up short. She looked down at the red, blistered skin on her upper body and was grateful that Ducky had said there would be no permanent damage from the contact with the poison. She wondered how Gibbs was doing. She hadn't heard anything else from his side of the curtain last night; did that mean he slept nightmare free? And what about his poison symptoms? Come to think of it,' Kate realized, Ducky never told me anything else about this poison. He just asked me a bunch of questions!' Wanting an update on Gibbs' condition and needing to relieve herself after a night's sleep, Kate rang for a nurse. She needed more help with the former, but pretended the opposite.  
  
Gibbs heard noise. Not excruciating noise, not even terrible noise, just noise. Carefully he opened one eye. Light, but not light he recognized. Okay, not home, not the office.' Gibbs fought for the last sequence of memories. Slowly they came. Erickson's house, vomiting on the lawn, an ambulance ride, falling out of a hospital bed. Hospital. Hell.' Gibbs tried to sit up, but a tsunami-force pain hit his head accompanied by a surge of nausea. He saw the ubiquitous kidney shaped basin nearby and grabbed it just in time. There was, however, precious little for his stomach to expel. He was appalled to see blood in with the small amount of mucous. Thinking to get rid of it before anyone should see, Gibbs tried get out of bed. His movements were arrested by a towering blonde nurse.  
  
Good morning, Agent Gibbs! Now don't worry, I'll take care of this. Dr. Mallard is very concerned about you and he requested me, specifically, to take care of you. So back into bed with you, let's make sure you're nice and comfy, okay? Good. Now you stay right there. If you need anything at all, you just push this call button and I'll be right in.  
  
Gibbs took the call button like a chastised schoolboy. Never in his adult life had he felt dwarfed by a woman, but she had at least six inches on him, and she was built like an athlete! What a Marine she'd have made! Gibbs lay back in the bed; Ducky knew his business. She was probably the only nurse on the staff Gibbs wouldn't be able to boss around.  
  
I'm saying Agent Gibbs had a quiet night and we don't want to disturb him. The nurse said quietly but forcefully as she maneuvered Kate from the bathroom back to her bed.  
  
Kate was getting pretty ticked with the attitude she was receiving from Nurse Go-To-Bed. She heard voices from the other side of the curtain and decided to take matters into her own hands. Pulling her elbow from the other woman's grip, she turned and headed for Gibbs.  
  
Hey wait, you can't do... Gibbs' head swiveled in the direction of the curtain as Kate's messy-haired one popped around it. She was swiftly followed by a petite nurse who reminded Gibbs of an annoying bird.  
  
Miss Todd, I don't believe you should be out of bed just now, and I really would appreciate it...  
  
Gibbs cut her off, Agent Todd is more than welcome to visit. Right now I think seeing each other alive and well may be the best medicine for both of us. Isn't that right, Kate? His voice, though raspy still, still held the tone of command.  
  
Well, I don't like it. And I'm going to let Dr. Mallard know! She humph-ed out of the room. Kate held back her laughter until she was gone.  
  
Wait until she finds out Ducky's on our side! That'll just ruin her day! Kate's laugh ended with a peculiar cough, which earned her a concerned look from Gibbs. She waved it away as she perched at the foot of his bed and said, Sore throat from all that puking.  
  
Gibbs nodded. Ah yes, I know the feeling. So how are you doing? I'm afraid my memories of the last twenty-four hours are pretty scrambled. I remember both of us being sick in the ambulance, but I don't recall hearing exactly what happened to you. His voice had begun to fade with each sentence, and he hated that any weakness showed.  
  
Kate, to her credit, showed no sympathy for the infirmity; to do so would only have infuriated him. Remember the hot tub? There was something either in the water or the algae. Everywhere I was wet I started having this burning itch. Tony caught on to what you meant when you said poison. He had me get the EMTs to rig a shower; made a big deal of getting us clean and out of our clothes and then sending everything back to Abby, pronto.  
  
Good man, Dinozzo. When he's not distracted. So how's your skin, then? Gibbs assumed she had recovered, as his face had certainly stopped hurting. Although as predicted, his scalp was starting to feel a little uncomfortable.  
  
In response, Kate peeled open the hospital gown she was wearing. The crackling and broken pieces of skin surrounding her blisters looked like a frozen pond breaking up in a spring thaw.   
  
God, Kate! Gibbs hand reached out to her of its own volition before conscious thought arrested the movement. I don't have any burns like that on my face, do I? He didn't recall seeing his face in a mirror at any point, but he was sure if the damage had been that severe, he'd have known. How is it that you came off so much worse?  
  
Kate watched the play of emotion over Gibbs face as she carefully rewrapped herself, trying hard not to wince as she did so. She was grateful beyond words that it was Ducky who told her she would heal completely. She doubted she would have trusted another doctor with the same statement. Ducky said that because I had been exposed to the liquid form of the poison, I had the worst of the skin irritation. It honestly looks worse than it is. It's like having a really nasty sunburn that itches like a really nasty rash. He prescribed some salve for it and said it would clear up completely in a week. I have my doubts about the week' part. But he said not to worry. He was more concerned that I didn't swallow any of the water from the hot tub. When I told him I hadn't he said he was pretty sure I'd be fine. Kate realized he was still concerned about his own appearance and added, Your face just looks red and puffy, as if you'd scrubbed it too roughly for too long.  
  
How far does that go? Gibbs motioned toward her injured upper chest.  
  
It starts where the latex gloves stop and down to just about the bottom of my rib cage. Kate looked him in the eye as she spoke, wondering what he'd say.  
  
He studied her injuries with a critical eye, as though he were analyzing a crime scene. That explained the wraps on her arms,' he thought. Must keep the salve from getting rubbed off every time she moves.' He sighed deeply as he realized the extent of real estate on her body that was damaged. As if that shit Erickson didn't have enough to pay for,' he thought. The two of us here, Bourne and his team down, DiNozzo is God only knows where.' Gibbs closed his eyes. Finally after another long minute passed he said, I'm sorry, Kate. We shouldn't be here, any of us. But when Erickson gave up that house...  
  
Kate cut him off mid sentence. Don't you dare apologize to me for doing your job Gibbs! You did the right thing. That man is dangerous with a capital D, and we all knew it going into that house. And we knew what we would find there, too, because he told us. He never said it would be easy. Remember, he smiled when he told us. Just like those Marines said he smiled when he rationed out the poisoned water. If we were too foolish, or too cocky to think it through and take all the precautions fine. Then we all take the blame. Not just you. So don't you dare try to take all the blame for this. She wound down her speech breathing heavily. God, how that man could infuriate her!   
  
He fixed her with his piercing blue gaze for a moment, but she wouldn't back down. Allowing the truth of her words to sink in, her changed the subject. So does that rash hurt? Would it cause you to, say, let out a small scream in the night?  
  
Now she blinked in surprise. Um, yeah actually, it does. That's why we finally wrapped my arms, because it goes all the way around, and I was having trouble sleeping. Unfortunately we can't really do that with the rest of me. I rolled over last night at one point and yelled loud enough to bring the nurse running. According to Ducky, you were having a nightmare and you must have heard me. He said you fell out of bed. She left it at that, wondering why he'd brought the matter up at all.  
  
Nodding, he replied, I sort of remember the conversation with Ducky. It was very strange though. Apparently what ever he gave me for pain relief made me very woozy. I think that's where the nightmares came from, but I'm not sure. It was a tough conversation to follow, at least it seems so now. I'm just trying to reconstruct my day.  
  
Well, you're going to have to do it without me. I think I want to lie back down for a while. Ducky said there shouldn't be any more problems with the poison, but I'm starting to feel a little headachy and maybe a touch nauseous. Kate stood up slowly when a large -- no gigantic -- blonde nurse came in. Kate was forced to tilt her head all the way back just to look at the woman.  
  
Ah, Agent Todd! You have been chatting with Agent Gibbs. Ducky said that it would be okay, as long as you do not tire yourself out. Here, let me help you back to bed; looks to me like you stayed just a little longer than you should have. Next time, be sure you call me for help. Ducky has assigned me, personally, to be your nurse, to see that you are properly taken care of. There, all set.  
  
Kate was settled back in her bed, pillows and bed covers arranged and call button placed in her hand, much the same way Gibbs had been handled earlier. She had to blink twice at the speed and quiet precision with which the nurse had accomplished her goals, while leaving her patient no room for discussion. Of course the fact that she seem to be twice Kate's size didn't hurt.  
  
Hey, Gibbs! Kate called through the dividing curtain. Who was that?  
  
Didn't you hear? She's our new nurse, sent special from Ducky, came the muffled reply.  
  
So you've met her already? Do you know her name? Kate was starting to feel like a schoolgirl passing notes about the teacher.  
  
First thing this morning. She didn't say. There was a pause. Then came an entirely un-Gibbs-like comment. Maybe it's Brunhilde?  
  
Kate blinked and stifled a laugh. That she would have expected from Tony, not Gibbs. She didn't know whether to chalk it up to the poison and be worried, or to the fact that their new nurse made them feel like slightly naughty children.  
  
Feminine laughter floated into the room from the hallway. Not a bad guess, but I have actually heard that before. The blonde head appeared in the doorway, visible to both occupants. Just so you know, my name is Laurel. She smiled, and went back to where ever nurses went to when they disappeared.  
  
Kate heard a grinding chuckle from behind the curtain. She snickered at his uncharacteristic reaction and whispered, which prompted a number of snorts in return. His ill-suppressed laughter lulled her into much-needed slumber.


	11. Chapter 11

Tony stood in the silence of the empty yard and watched as the first rays of dawn flickered over the horizon. He tried to remember the first impressions he'd formed of the property nearly twenty-four hours earlier and found that he couldn't. Even with the beginnings of a bright summer morning, the miasma of death and violence hunkered over the house. A shudder stole through him and he wondered if the bomb slumbering in its depths wasn't Hell's way of trying to reclaim its own, after all.   
  
He shook his head and turned to enter the last remaining vehicle, an NCIS pool sedan he'd checked out for Gibbs yesterday. The bomb squad left, with grand plans of coming back to disarm everything. Tony had then sent Owens' team back to HQ with both trucks packed full of the evidence. Shales had seemed surprised that he didn't want to go with them. He had fallen back on the excuse about getting the car back, but the truth was he just needed to be away from all of this. He'd called Abby and brought her up to speed. She, in turn, had given him Gibbs' and Kate's conditions, which were cautiously optimistic. Tony smiled as he drove towards home, remembering how the sound of her voice had soothed that part of his soul that the night had wounded, hoping that his had done the same for her. He told her not to expect him in the office, he was going home and then to the hospital. The people that needed him, and that he needed, did not reside in cubicles today.  
  
Ducky peeked into the darkened room to find a sleeping Caitlin. He smiled and turned to go, but was stopped by a drowsy voice.  
  
Ducky? What time is it? Without thinking, Kate tried to stretch and was sharply reminded of her injury.  
  
Good morning, my dear. It's around 10:30. How are you doing? The doctor moved over to her bedside and smiled down at her.  
  
Kate gave him a half-smile and said, I suppose it's getting better. It doesn't feel awful all the time, but it looks pretty awful. Are you sure this is going to heal up in a week?  
  
Let me take a look. Ducky carefully peered at the cracked and blistered skin on her upper chest. Well, it certainly is a nasty case, I'll grant you that. Do you have any allergies?  
  
Just a couple, she replied and listed them.  
  
That shouldn't make any difference in this case, but I can give you a different prescription. It will definitely help, but it might sting a little when you first put it on. At any rate, this isn't permanent. It's simply an irritation to the upper layers of the dermis. Now there was this one case of severe dermatitis I treated that was particularly nasty...  
  
Kate interrupted, normally I'd be fascinated. Really. But I have to admit to being a little oversensitive to the topic right now.  
  
Ah, yes. Perfectly understandable. Noise from the doorway caught his attention. Both he and Kate watched the gurney bearing Gibbs being wheeled back in. Ducky patted her hand fondly as he excused himself  
  
Pardon me, my dear. I shall see to your new prescription straight away. Rest some. And let Gibbs rest a while too, eh? He made his way around the curtain. Try as she might, Kate couldn't hear a thing from the other side.  
  
Ducky watched as Laurel finished getting his friend settled. The tall blonde smiled down at him before she left, and he moved to the bedside in her place. Jethro turned his head and glared up at him.  
  
Was that necessary? Blue eyes glittered with irritation.  
  
It all depends. Did you want me to check you out thoroughly or leave you in the hospital an extra week? Ducky made the words mild and unthreatening.  
  
Gibbs just looked at his old friend. He wanted to be angry; he had not enjoyed the procedure at all. But if the results could spare him any time in the hospital, then he knew he would be grateful. Refusing to express either emotion, he simply looked away.  
  
Taking the victory, Ducky permitted a small smile to grace his lips and asked, How did you sleep last night?  
  
Fine, I think. Was there a nightmare in there somewhere? Kate and I talked this morning, and I could vaguely recall it. And a conversation with you.  
  
Yes. Unfortunately, I prescribed your analgesic before I read through your tox screen from Abby. I had assumed after our first conversation that you had had much less exposure to the pesticide than we first thought. You did indeed limit your exposure, but you had more that I anticipated. I'm afraid the pain relievers only set you up for the nightmares. Those are an odd little side effect of pesticide poisoning that doesn't often show up.  
  
Gibbs listened to all of this carefully. How bad is this? Is it something that will clear up, like Kate's skin? Or am I stuck with it?  
  
The good news is, the toxin levels in your blood are dropping, exactly along a predictable curve. As for anything else, I want to take a look at the CT scan results. I don't like the complaints of abdominal pain. Laurel told me you vomited this morning and that there was blood in it. They may be unrelated problems, but I can't ignore anything at this point.  
  
Gibbs fumed as he remembered how neatly he'd been outmaneuvered earlier when he tried to dispose of the incriminating evidence just mentioned by the coroner.  
  
Ducky saw the near petulant look on the ex-Marine's face and struggled not to laugh. Until I give you a Bill of Health so clean you can eat off of it, there you stay. He jabbed his finger towards the bed with the last three words in emphasis.  
  
Less than twenty-four hours in a hospital bed and Gibbs was already as grumpy as a bored two-year-old. Worse, he had a nurse who could probably strong arm him into anything Ducky ordered. In a low, menacing voice he finally managed to growl out, Yes, doctor.


	12. Chapter 12

Tony stood under scalding hot water in his shower for countless minutes. His sleep had been numbingly dreamless, but hardly refreshing. He finished his toilette then dressed and headed to the hospital to see his teammates. Smiling his first genuine smile in hours as he realized how much good it would do them all to be together for a little while.  
  
When he arrived, laden with flowers and bags, he approached the main desk. Before he asked to be directed to Agents Gibbs' and Todd's rooms however, he inquired after the victims he'd helped to rescue earlier. As the older nurse began to cite hospital security regulations, he fished out his badge, and explained that he just wanted to know how they were doing. The nurse gave Tony a thorough once over before calling up to the victims' floor and speaking to the officer in charge of the protective detail. Once assured she could pass on the requested information, she turned back to Tony with a softer look in her eyes and said, I'm sorry to tell you, Agent DiNozzo, but one of them died in transit.  
  
He nodded his thanks, took the directions to find Kate and Gibbs and headed down the indicated corridor. He wasn't surprised, it hadn't looked good for the woman. But he had hoped. Remembering her injuries, wondering what else she had suffered, maybe she had hoped, too. Tony wished her peace.  
  
As he approached the nurses' desk near Kate's and Gibbs' room he saw Abby headed toward him, similarly laden. he called, the sight of her lifting his spirits immensely.  
  
She held back from throwing herself into his arms, but only out of respect for the parcels they each carried. It is so good to just see you and know you're all right. I've taken a quick look at the evidence you guys sent back. It's amazing what you found there.  
  
Everybody did good work. And I never want a job like that again. Tony's voice had gone oddly quiet. Let's go see those two lazybones. Didn't I tell you this is how you'd see me again? He perked right back up, led Abby over to the nurses' station and found himself face to face with a very athletic blonde nurse.  
  
Agent DiNozzo, how good to see you. Abby, glad you're here. They should be just about done with lunch, and probably more than ready for some company. If you'll just follow me?   
  
Tony was taken aback that she knew his name and had just handled him like the greenest rookie. Good Lord, was that a tall woman! The urge to take a step backward just to get a better view was overwhelming! She moved from behind the desk and into the doorway with a grace that belied her stature, and as she did so, Tony whispered to Abby, You know her?  
  
Mm Hm. Her name's Laurel. Best nurse on the whole staff. Abby replied.  
  
Laurel looked in the room at her two patients. Both wore identical mutinous expressions directed at the hospital lunch trays. Both were viciously stabbing their forks at various hapless items on said trays and shoving them around in great disgust. What made the scene perfectly comical was the curtain between them, clearly they had no idea they virtually mirrored each other's behavior. Schooling her face to the ideal professional visage, Laurel gently cleared her throat and said, Agents Gibbs and Todd, you have some visitors, if you would care for some company.  
  
Gibbs' fork had lethally speared a carrot and had just lifted its kill from the tray. Kate was caught with the fork in her mouth, being pulled out as if unhappily leaving its cargo behind. Both froze as Laurel pushed back the curtain separating the room while Tony and Abby appeared at the doorway. Taking in the scene from their vantage point they looked at each other and let out a snort of laughter.  
  
Gibbs dropped the offensive utensil. Glad you're amused, DiNozzo. Why aren't the two of you at the office? Don't you have any work to do?  
  
Kate swallowed hastily. Tony, Abby! Thanks for coming to visit. We were starting to go stir crazy in here. Weren't we Gibbs? She rolled her eyes when all she received in response from him was silence.  
  
Boss, you'll be glad to know that we got everything out of Erickson's place. Tony waited for Gibbs to turn that piercing gaze on him.  
  
Everything? Define everything', DiNozzo. The eyes watched intently as Tony gave a brief report.  
  
We recovered the poison lab, pretty extensive one, too. Shales found the Lasix that we suspect was used on the Marines. We also got the benzene hexachloride he used on you two. There were a number of notebooks, a thorough videotape library, and some correspondence. I glanced through what I could, considering the time constraints.  
  
What time constraints? Gibbs shot out, succinct as ever.  
  
What did he use videotapes for? asked Kate at the same time.  
  
Tony answered Gibbs first, holding up a finger to Kate, He had a bomb in the basement. A very big bomb. The EOD guys said they couldn't defuse it, best they could do was to put it in stasis. Gibbs, you'd have been proud. We hauled ass getting everything out and we did it all by the book. He turned to Kate. The videotapes were for research. He had some nasty torture and poison testing he was filming. The survivors are upstairs under protective custody at the moment.  
  
Who found them, Tony? Kate shuddered to think of anything that horrific; she felt for the agents who were at the house.  
  
I did. He bowed his head for a moment to compose himself, not wanting to see the looks in the others' eyes. He took a deep breath then looked Gibbs in the eye to continue. As far as what I found in the correspondence; it looks like Erickson was paid to prove that it was possible to poison large numbers of military troops at a time. Pulling that off would earn him a larger mission.  
  
He was paid to poison all those Marines? That's it? He did it for the money? Abby's voice was rich with disbelief.  
  
Kate's profiling abilities clarified Erickson's motives. No, Abby. He poisoned them because he enjoyed it. Erickson has been diagnosed as sociopath by two experts in the field. He has no conscience, no capability of emotion, other than the pleasure he derives from inflicting pain or death upon another being. He didn't do it for the money. He just took the money and accepted set of victims from someone else. The poisoning was something he'd have happily done for free.   
  
Who hired him? Once again, Gibbs cut right to the heart of the matter.  
  
I didn't have time to read that far. A lot of it was in code, only parts were left untranslated. All the evidence is back at HQ and Owens' team is sorting it out. I'm sure they've already got someone in crypto on it, Boss, the younger man said.  
  
I don't think I know Owens' team, Tony. Are they any good? Kate inquired.  
  
Abby jumped in with the answer. Dave Owens, Pete Harrison and Christie Shales. Dave's not bad, but he's a grumbler. Always wants to get ahead but doesn't always want to do the work. Pete's an okay guy. Smart, but lacks some self-confidence. He'd do a lot better with a different leader. Christie is supposed to be a real promising talent, but Dave treats her like a secretary, so she'll probably quit before we ever find out. Shame, too. She's smart. She eyed Tony, and a hottie, eh?  
  
Gibbs, who had been about to answer Kate's question in a slightly different manner, found he truthfully couldn't disagree with Abby's assessments. What concerned him more was the look on Tony's face as she described the team. He had become very shuttered, almost angry at the mention of their names. Better lance this boil before it festers,' he thought.  
  
Whatsa matter, Tony? Didn't you like working with Owens and his team? I'd've thought you'd really enjoy working side by side with another pretty girl.  
  
Pete and Christie worked hard, Christie especially. It was a very long, tiring, nerve-wracking experience and I think we all four did especially well given the circumstances. They've asked if they can follow the money trail as to who hired Erickson. I'm personally fine with that, seeing as how we have enough on our desks with the Marines, you two and the victims I found. But if it's all the same to you, I really have no desire to work with Owens' team again in the near future. There was almost no inflection whatsoever to his voice.   
  
Gibbs spoke before anyone else could, Okay, Tony.  
  
Hey, Boss. I saw a Starbucks a block away. I'm going for coffee; shall I smuggle you a cup of the good stuff? Tony saw the blue eyes light up at the mention of something besides hospital sludge. Be right back.  
  
After he had left the room, the two women rounded on Gibbs. What was that all about anyway? Kate got her shot off first.   
  
Gibbs held up his hands to ward off the anger radiating from the two women. I've seen it happen before. We don't know what happened after we left, but it must have been rather traumatic. Tony's afraid that every time he looks at a member of the other team he's going to relive those events. I don't know how they will feel about him. It might be the same way, it might not. I've met them, and Abby's right about Pete and Christie. After working under Dave and then having Tony take charge, Pete and Christie may look at Tony as their new best friend, or even a mentor of sorts. He can't handle that right now. I'm going to ask someone, maybe Ducky, to talk to them.  
  
Ducky?? Why him? Why not Director Morrow? Abby was clearly lost now.  
  
Coming from the director it sounds too much like a reprimand. Coming from Ducky, Tony's as much a casualty as the rest of us. And that's exactly what he is, another one of Erickson's victims. Poisoning of the mind, in his case.  
  
Kate took a moment, then asked quietly, Does anyone ever really get used to this sort of thing? We deal with it, we investigate it, we solve it, but do any of us really ever get used to it?  
  
They all fell silent for a moment, thinking about how much one person's actions could change so many lives. The squeak of shoes on the floor brought them all out of their reverie as their heads turned to the door.  
  
Well, all we're missing is young Anthony! Ducky happily exclaimed. Now, where have you stashed him?  
  
Right here, Duck, said Tony, slightly out of breath, as he came up behind the coroner.  
  
Wonderful. Now that everyone's here I can hand out all the news. First, Kate. Your tox screen levels are virtually clear. Your AST and ALT levels are perfect and so is your creatinine. How's your skin?  
  
Kate looked around. Since Tony and Abby had come in they hadn't talked about injuries at all. Self-consciously she peeled open her robe for Ducky to check her much-bared upper chest. I think the new salve is already starting to help some, she told him. The crackly edges seemed to be softening instead of flaking away. And while it did sting when she put it on the first time, it actually felt more soothing than the first salve had.  
  
Ooooh, Kate, that must hurt, said Abby.  
  
It's not so bad, truthfully.  
  
Hey, Kate. I'm really sorry. He said it quietly, but sincerity radiated from Tony's green eyes.  
  
I know, Tony. It's okay.  
  
Good, good. Then as long as you have a quiet night, you can go home tomorrow, my dear. Ducky's proclamation made the group smile as he turned toward the room's other resident. Now, Jethro, about your condition. First, your tox levels are down, but you're not completely clear yet. That wouldn't concern me as much, except that your creatinine levels are a touch elevated as well. I want you here for at least the next twenty-four and possibly forty-eight hours.  
  
Gibbs groaned in response. Two more days of hell with bad food. Is this really necessary, Duck?   
  
I need you here to monitor your fluid intake and output. Not home working on your boat! Oh, and the CT scan showed us that all the major organs looked healthy, thankfully. The lab results from your emesis this morning suggest that there is nothing serious there, either. Rather, I suspect that all the vomiting most likely irritated your upper GI tract. I've scheduled an upper GI series for tomorrow morning to verify that. You'll require a bland food diet for the next month to let that stomach heal. And no coffee for you either, Jethro, during that time! Ducky then excused himself, explaining that there was much for him to do both at the hospital and back at NCIS HQ.  
  
Tony, Abby and Kate all gaped at each other. Gibbs without coffee for a month! Ducky must be nuts. No way they'd all survive it.  
  
Gibbs noticed the looks they were exchanging. He'd bet anything they were figuring out how much vacation time they had.  
  
Tony glanced toward the door to be sure he wouldn't be overheard. Hey, Boss. It's still hot. Last cup for a condemned man?  
  
Gibbs reached out eagerly for the proffered cup just as a tall blonde whirlwind blew through the room. He silently cursed the woman's efficiency as Tony snatched the cup back.  
  
What lovely flowers you've brought them, I'll see to it that they're displayed properly. And don't worry about the gifts, I'll take care of them, too. Now it's time that Agents Gibbs and Todd get some rest; make sure you check with Dr. Mallard about when would be the best time to visit next. Laurel began to reposition the curtain separating the two beds.  
  
Tony, meanwhile, had caught Gibbs' eye, but thankfully not Nurse Laurel's. He sidled closer to the coffeeholic and was just about done surreptitiously stashing the precious liquid in the drawer of his night table next to the bed when the blonde Amazon stepped on his foot and crashed into him. This caused him to slam his hand in the drawer and the hot coffee, which he was still holding, sloshed down the cup, on his hand and into the drawer.  
  
Laurel turned and looked Tony squarely in the eye. I'm terribly sorry, Agent DiNozzo, my fault. By the way, you'll want to have that hand looked at. I doubt anything is broken, but that will be a nasty coffee burn you have. She smiled and left the room.  
  
Everyone turned and looked at Tony as he pulled his reddened hand out of the drawer. Gibbs took the nearly empty cup, drained the last few drops from it and then eyed the man next to him.  
  
That's what you get for sticking your hand in my drawers, grinned Gibbs.


End file.
